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Dialog in italics is through a device.
THE NEWS hit like a virus, spreading all over the channels with no mercy. Demoralized and stripped of all that really mattered. Everything summarized into bold lines, served on a platter for people to invade, not reading the story, but only the shallow headlines. Each one handpicking what they're interested in. Like they could. Because they could.
The television rumbles, white parallel lines slowly ascending in its screen.
Eight days, Kevin?
Yes, can you believe it? And she escaped on her own, recognized by a couple of bikers.
Insane! I hear her husband is now doing everything he can to make her feel safe again.
Yes! We've been informed that he has installed the highest security systems of all time, costing him at least-
I switch channels.
Home safe. Indeed, Brooks, we've been informed that even the police have their eyes on them. If anyone is attacking their home anytime soon, they'll be up for-
Switch.
-is still out there! Wake up, people! The men who did this are walking amongst us! Amongst your children! She escaped on her own for God's sake! Where is securi-
Switch.
Amazing what a man's love can do!
Definitely! I want a Noah Wilfred myself, where do you get-
With a sigh, I turn it off, taking my time before turning back to dad. "You must be tired from all that TV."
Dad laughs, his shoulders dancing, and lays his head back on the bed. "You're talking about me?"
My eyes escape his gaze landing on the turned off television screen. "Are you gonna sleep?" I stand up, but he holds my wrist.
"No, no, just resting my head back." He smiles, face softening, his eyes lingering on the ceiling before landing on me. Looking at me through wrinkled skin, each line telling stories beyond any information I could collect, smiles at the light mishaps of his daughters, frowns at the consequented ones, eyes that express both love and grief no words could describe. He raises his hand to my cheek, I hold it, for it's too weak to still. After an age of fighting gravity, his frail body lays tired in his bed, his whole being introducing him to me. I turn my face into his hand.
"You should rest." I place his hand back.
"Don't tell me what I'm supposed to do." He frowns, sitting up, barely pushing himself up with his elbows. "If I needed to doze off, I would've already been long asleep."
"Dad, you look tired," I urge.
"I am not." He says, voice stern and sharp, but his face softens. "It's the last day that you're here, let me be."
"I'll visit you," I say.
"No, you won't."
"I promise- I will." I reach out for him.
"I don't want you to." He shakes his head pushing my hand away. "You stay with Noah till it is all safe," he says. "I'd rather you don't leave the house at all. Much less without him by your side."
"He's not my bodyguard." I retract.
"He is your husband, he very much is."
"This is not the ice age, dad, he- he-" I fall silent. Either for the lack of appropriate words or the knock on the door, I don't know.
While Noah and the nurses enter right after knocking, the door remains still. It could be David behind that door, I smile.
"Come in," I say.
The door opens, but instead of David's smiling face, it introduces a tall dark man. His face and posture in still perfect positions, void of emotion or personality. Like a machine standing among humans, pretending to be one, but never fully succeeding. I jump to my feet, wincing at my forgotten injury.
"Dr. Wilfred." The man attempts to smile, though it's nothing more than a slight raise of a corner of his mouth.
And just like that I am a deer in headlights. I nod mimicking his smile, not really knowing what expression I should hold in his presence, not capable of giving a better one anyway when my heart is pounding hard against my chest. Enough that he might hear it.
He nods and steps in, hands behind his back, taking position a few feet apart from me. "Mr. Taylor, I hear your condition has improved enough for your dismissal tomorrow." He turns to my father.
"Yes. Fortunately," dad replies, voice low and dry.
Something tells me this man is one of the reasons why I'm lying to everyone about my amnesia.
The man only smiles at dad before returning to me. "It's good to have you back, Doctor. You've always been an essential asset to this hospital."
"Thank you. But I'm not coming back to work just yet, I do need a long break after all this," I say.
"Of course, a break is of utmost importance. However, I see no need for it to be too long. You haven't been terribly harmed, once your leg heals I'd be most pleased to see you in your white coat. Returning to your daily routine should be enough comfort to your mental health."
My hands shake and I hold them behind my back. I must get it together or else he'll see right through me. What he's saying is valid, but I can't return with this amnesia ordeal. Which is exactly what he must not know.
"Of course. But you don't know what I've been through those eight days. I may need weeks to months to be able to return."
He smiles and steps forward. I fight the urge to step back. "As an old friend, I most profoundly agree. However, as the Vice President of this hospital, I need you to reflect upon the professionalism of this decision."
"I have. The least professional decision would be that I return to work right away."
"Even when the hospital needs you?"
"Are you saying all the other doctors are independable?"
"I'd never. The hospital did not rise upon only your name. Everyone is replaceable, doctor. Even you," He says. "Not that it is of my wish, of course. I've only come to give you my best wishes."
"Received. Thank you," I say.
The man keeps his gaze on me, one that burns me so much I have to use all my willpower to hold it.
With a knock, the door opens as Noah steps in. He freezes at the sight of the man before me. His eyes jump onto me then back on the man.
"Crawford!" He exclaims approaching smiling. He shakes his hand and pats his shoulder.
A knot forms in my stomach. Noah shouldn't be too friendly with a man like that.
"Ah, there you are. I was just getting used to that tense act of yours. In fact, I liked you better." Crawford smiles. Teeth perfect, too perfect I both don't want to see, but can't keep my eyes off.
Noah smiles back and sends a glance at me before returning to Crawford. "Always so funny, Crawford. You should see me when all this is settled." He looks at me again. Green eyes lingering on me in an urgent gaze.
'Leave.'
"I'll go get coffee." I head to the door, not looking back.
"Dr. Wilfred?" Crawford's deep voice fills the room.
My heart starts racing again. I dread having to look back, but I do.
His lips form his uncanny smile. "It's good to have you back."
I smile and nod. Not waiting for another second before I exit the room, limping my way to the coffee machine.
"Dr. Wilfred!" A high pitched voice almost makes me jump. I turn to see a nurse smiling from ear to ear. "Welcome back, doc.! We were all worried sick!"
Giving her an awkward laugh, I thank her, descending back to the coffee machine before I turn my way again.
With a press of a few buttons, the dark liquid drizzles into the cup muting the noise around me and fighting to overcome the heel taps approaching my direction.
Disappointed with the weak coffee scent, I grab hold of the paper cup and walk back to the room.
A woman dressed in all dark clothes stands in my way. Form shaking, her lined teary eyes pierce through my own. Her dark colored lips pursed together, thick eyebrows pulled upwards, her whole being is fighting back tears, and she shares her burden with me through her lingering gaze.
She must have lost someone.
I continue my path towards the door, guilt creeping up my back for not being able to do anything for her.
"The fuck?" The woman says.
Looking behind me, I find her turned to my new direction, body shaking, eyes throwing daggers at me.
"Hey!" I exclaim smiling.
"Hey? Hey?!" she cries. "Look, I know I've been a shitty sister, but that doesn't mean you can just-"
Sister. This is my sister.
Blaire.