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Her parents stayed resolutely by her bedside until Dr. Srirani returned with answers for them. The doctor pulled a chair up to Eden’s bedside, then unlocked her tablet to display results.
“Well, Ms. Dawson, you definitely have a concussion. But based on your answers to my questions, and some details your parents have shared with me, I’d say we’re also looking at something more involved than just trauma-based memory loss surrounding the crash.”
Eden’s heart plummeted. “What does that mean?”
“It seems there are a number of events from the past year that are a bit fuzzy. Based on the evidence I’m seeing, we’re dealing with something called retrograde amnesia.”
“Amnesia?” Eden and her parents said in unison.
“Yes.” The doctor held up a placating hand. “Please, don’t panic. I have every reason to believe you’ll make a full recovery from this in time.”
“In time?” she asked, still trying to understand it all. “How long?”
The doctor smiled sympathetically. “It differs for every patient. Usually, the memories return as the brain heals. It could take days or months, depending on the severity of the injury. The good news is your long-term memory is fine. You still remember all the basics to survive on your own.”
Slowly, Eden scooted up in her bed, careful to avoid making herself dizzy again. Her parents asked questions of Dr. Srirani about what kind of help Eden might need and whether she should be living on her own while she recovered. The last part stopped Eden cold.
She’d never been a person who liked to be fussed over, and head injury or not, that hadn’t changed. She’d had more than enough experience being babied as the youngest of seven kids, thanks so much, and she could tell where this was heading, so she put a quick end to it.
“I’m sure I’ll be fine at my place, guys,” she said loudly to cut through the talking. The others went silent and stared at her, wide-eyed. “Now can someone please tell me more about this accident I had?”
“The police said you went off the road and hit a tree,” her dad said, before adding, “Shame, too, since you loved your new car and all.”
“New car?” The gurgling in her belly was back. “When did I get a new car?”
“About four months ago. Red coupe. Picked it out and customized it yourself,” her mother said. “You were so excited because you’d finally made enough profit from your business to trade up from that old clunker you brought back with you from California after the divorce.”
Ah, California.
Finally. Something she remembered in vivid detail—even if she’d rather forget the five years she’d wasted in a marriage to her irresponsible ex. Taking the car they’d shared had been her version of severance pay. She’d deserved a hell of a lot more after what he’d put her through.
At last, Dr. Srirani said, “I’ll continue to follow up with you for the next several weeks to make sure you’re healing well, Ms. Dawson. In the meantime, I’d recommend getting plenty of rest—and giving yourself permission to take it easy. Your body has been through some significant trauma. It might take time before you feel fully like yourself again.”
“Physically or mentally?” Eden asked, throat tight.
“Both, I’m afraid.” Dr. Srirani’s comforting smile returned. “As for your fuzzy memories, what I can suggest is for you to perhaps return to places that are meaningful to you. It may help clear your mind and allow the memories to slot back into place. And the good news is there’s nothing in your test results to require another night in the hospital. As long as you have a safe, comfortable place to call home, I can discharge you today if you like.”
“Yes, please,” Eden said, eager to get out of there and get her life back.
“She can come home with us,” her parents said in unison. “We’ll take care of her.”
Oh. Hell. No.
Eden thought she’d made that point clear earlier. She loved her parents, but the thought of being back in her childhood home—where she was perpetually treated like she was six years old despite being twenty-eight—made her want to vomit all over again. While her parents grilled the doctor over her needs at home, Eden grabbed her phone off the tray over her bed and sent a text to one of her brothers, Adam.
Hey, they’re letting me go home today. Please come rescue me from the parents.
She’d no more than hit send before Adam replied.
Sure thing, sis. Be there in an hour. Glad you’re better. Was worried about you.
She sighed, relieved that Adam was coming to her rescue, even if he, too, could be overprotective at times. She put down her phone, then cleared her throat to get everyone’s attention again. “Adam’s going to pick me up. He’ll be here in an hour to take me home.”
“But what about—” her mom started to say, but Eden held up a hand, turning to Dr. Srirani instead.
“You said my long-term memory means I still remember how to take care of myself, right?” she asked. Dr. Srirani nodded. “So, I’m going home.”
“But,” Dr. Srirani added, “you might want to have someone check in on you occasionally for the first couple of days, just to make sure you’re doing okay.”
