Page 34 of Kylie

“Where am I?” I asked, my voice sounding as if it had been scraped along a cheese grater.

“You’re in a hospital.”

Nope, not alone. I wondered if they were paid to watch me to make sure I didn’t run away. It was what I would do if I had captured a terrorist.

“Why am I blindfolded?”

The woman didn’t answer, so I asked again, figuring she couldn’t make out my garbled words.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said, her tone shrill, then moved away.

“It does to me,” I insisted, my voice gathering strength the more I used it.

“You’ll get over that quickly.”

I wasn’t sure why this woman was so rude. Then again, if I were really a terrorist, I wasn’t sure I could blame her.

“What day is it?” I probed, desperate for answers.

“Monday.”

Well, that wasn’t helpful.

“What month?”

“January.” Her responses were clipped, but at least she was answering.

“Year?”

“Twenty-twenty-two.”

The information filled in a few blanks, but it didn’t help me make sense of anything. Well, aside from it being 2022 and the last thing I remembered was the year I graduated from high school, which would’ve been in … 2002.

No need to panic. Not yet.

“How long have I been here?”

The woman grunted. “Six days shy of a year.”

That didn’t tell me much, nor did it tell me how long it had been since the last time I woke up, but I was going to assume it hadn’t been too long.

“When will I⁠—”

“Shut up,” the woman hissed. “He’s coming this way. You don’t want to piss him off.”

It almost sounded like she was warning me, but I got the impression it was meant to be a threat. Either way, I decided not to take any risks until I knew more.

“Did the doctor sign off on moving her?” a man asked, his tone harsh. It was the same man as before, the one on the speaker who said I’d been in a coma for almost a year.

“He did,” the woman confirmed. “He said she should remain under medical care. And no more sedation.”

“I’m sure you can handle that.”

“I’m not a doctor,” she countered with a hint of frustration. “But I’ll do what I can.”

That didn’t sound promising. But at least I knew better than to say anything. Not yet, at least.

“Good. I’ll have her transferred to a facility that will accommodate her. You will remain with her. I figure I’ve invested far too much time to let her die at this point. Not yet anyway.”