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It’s not until he bends down that I finally realize something is wrong. Kolya’s shirt is ripped in half a dozen places. There’s blood caked over his face and streaked down his neck. His fingers are drenched in more of the same.
I try to ask what happened, but my lips won’t form the words. I get the feeling he wouldn’t answer anyway.
My vision is half blue and half black now. I feel myself being lifted into the air. For one crazy, delusional moment, I wonder if I’m dancing again.
Then I realize that the smell of blood has been replaced by the smell of vanilla.
Everything that follows happens in jarring fits and spurts, like a film reel that someone has taken half the frames out of. He’s moving so fast through the house that I barely register the pain radiating up my leg and deep into my belly.
“Kolya…” I whisper.
His eyes, the only things I can see clearly, snap down to my face. There’s a fresh cut just above his left eyebrow. It’s shaped like a half moon. It might have been beautiful if there wasn’t so much blood caked around his face.
“I’ve got you,” is all he says. “I’ve got you.”
16
JUNE
When I come to, I’m in some kind of hospital room.
Kolya stands in the corner, arms folded over his chest, face cast in shadow. In front of him is a woman with bright red hair and round glasses. She’s dressed in jeans and a striped sweater. No doctor’s coat, no medical badge, nothing like that, but she has the walk and assurance of a doctor, and when she smiles at me, I feel a little better.
“Hello, June,” she says. “I’m Dr. Sara Calloway. I wish we weren’t meeting under these circumstances, but I’m happy to meet you either way. Could you tell me what happened?”
There’s something about her I like. She’s friendly but matter of fact.
“I, uh… slipped,” I say, irrationally ashamed to tell her about the dancing part. “And fell.”
“Does it hurt when I do this?” Dr. Calloway asks.
I wince even at her extra-gentle contact. That’s when I notice that my leg is already swollen and black and blue, patches of dappled bruising radiating from my knee down my calf.
“Yeah. Ow.”
My gaze keeps flitting to Kolya in the back. He hasn’t moved. He might as well be a statue carved out of shadows. I notice the blood I saw on his face earlier is gone, and I wonder if I imagined it all in the first place.
“Okay, lie back,” Dr. Calloway says. “I’m going to check the fetus first, and once we rule out any danger there, I’ll deal with your ankle.”
I take a deep breath and do as she says. The world still looks watery and weird through my eyes. Nothing feels quite real. It’s nice to be able to just listen to someone else tell me what to do for a change.
She pokes and prods, hems and haws, taps notes periodically into a tablet on her lap. “You have nothing to worry about,” she pronounces a few minutes later. “The baby is healthy and safe.”
I sigh with relief, not having realized that I was holding my breath this entire time. “Are you sure?”
“A hundred percent,” she confirms. “All you need now is a good bandage and some rest. Wouldn’t hurt to start you on some vitamins, either. I was going to arrange a full check-up for you tomorrow after we were introduced, but now’s as good a time as any.”
Kolya steps forward. I blink in surprise. It’s like seeing a stone gargoyle come to life. I was starting to think of him as just another fixture in the room.
Dr. Calloway looks at him. “She’s fine, and so is the baby,” she repeats. “I’ll give you two a moment while I fetch some ice.”
He nods and she slips out of the room. In the back of my mind, I wonder what kind of hospital has the doctors fetching ice themselves.
“Where are we?” I ask blearily.
“About four doors down from where you fell.”
I frown, confused. “Wait, we’re still in the house? Why does it look like a hospital room? Come to think of it, why is an OBGYN coaching me on how to ice my ankle?”
