Page 8 of Born of Ice

“Good. That’s really good. Well, in terms of your memory,” he adds hastily and walks over to the x-rays I now notice behind him.

“You suffered a great fall that, along with extensive internal damages like broken ribs, bruising and more, put a hairline fracture on your sacral bone.” He points to a large somewhat shield-like shape at the bottom of my spine and before my pelvis.

“Do you know what it does?” I shake my head. “Its function is to support the weight of your spinal cord, stabilize the pelvis, and protect internal organs like the bladder, colon and reproductive organs. And damage to it can be quite serious.” He gives me a long look that can only mean one thing… “I assume the only reason you were able to get up after that fall was due to the high levels of adrenaline coursing through your body still, only when you did, that hairline fracture snapped completely.”

Snap. A shudder runs through me as I remember that crunching sound. The memory of it hitting me like a sharp stab.

“You were rushed into surgery, and we were able to repair the fracture.” He points to the picture next to it, where there is a long screw going through that same bone, holding it in place. “I’m not going to lie to you. It takes a lot to break the sacrum like this. It wasn’t an easy procedure. As you might’ve overheard, your heart did stop once but overall, the surgery went well.” He gives me a small comforting smile and comes back to my side, leaving a whole bunch of words unsaid.

Words I am terrified of hearing, even though I feel them deep inside me.

“I need to perform a few tests right now. Would that be okay?” Dr. Miles asks, and I give him a nod, still incapable of actually talking right now.

A fall. During my whole career in figure skating, I never fell before. Scrapes and twisted ankles, yes, but nothing like this.

My last twist. Eyes searching for Erik’s hands. Bare ice before me.Crash. Snap. Cold.

The memory is so swift, so powerful, so real it’s a gut punch. I blink, trying to wash away the picture from my eyes when I realize nothing’s happening.

I’m not sure how much time passes as I stared out the window, lost in that fall, in the memory of it, but no one has been doing anything to me. No tests.

“Are you going to start?” I ask, somewhat detached and still not letting my eyes wander away from that window.

Dr. Miles clears his throat at the same time as one lone tear slides down my cheek and my eyes flutter closed, the shaky breath I just managed to get under control, stuttering out of me.

“You have, haven’t you,” I ask, but it’s not really a question because I know…

“Miss Monroe, can you feel my hand on your right foot?” Dr. Miles asks quietly as another tear joins the first one. And that is answer enough for him. “And the left?” Another tear.

“Electra.” The use of my given name gets my attention, and I slowly turn away from the beautiful snowflakes, sliding my now empty gaze his way. “You’ve just woken up from the surgery after a complex fracture. Your body needs time to heal, to make those connections again, but I need you to know that we expect you to make full recovery. This type of spinal injury is not irreversible, but it will require a lot of hard work on your part.”

Why isn’t he saying it. I need him to say it.Say it.Say it!

“How long?” Erik’s voice finally makes an appearance but his eyes are as far away as they can be. “How long will it take for her to get back on the ice?”

Ice…did I ever get off it? Because I feel as cold as ever.

“It’s hard to say.”

“We have the Olympics next year!” Erik jumps up from the floor, his anger flaring out as he gets into Dr. Miles’s face, his nostrils flaring. “She needs to be on that fucking ice yesterday! So don’t give me your ‘it’s hard to say’ bullshit. WHEN?” he roars, that rage of his filling up the entire room while all I can do is just stare at everyone and feel the salty tears running down my face.

“Mr. Shishkov, you need to calm down. This won’t help anyone right now, least of all Electra. We will put together an extensive physical therapy for her, will run more scans and tests to see how severe the nerve damage is, but I think it’s safe to say the Olympics are off the table.” He casts his eyes my way. “In fact, I think the ice is off the table.”

“No!” Erik roars again. “No! You need to do more. She needs to be back! She’s my partner, what am I supposed to do without her? It’s the Olympics, do you fucking understand?”

Finally, Filip comes up, placing his hand on Erik’s shoulder. “Now’s not the time, Erik.” His shoulders immediately sag, and he falls to the floor next to my bed, his head next to my unmoving legs.

“Why don’t you rest for now? We’ll get those tests underway, and we can go from there, okay?” Dr. Miles says, and I think I nod because he nods back and leaves the room.

“I’ll give you two some privacy.” Filip squeezes my shoulder and follows the doctor.

“I don’t know how it happened, Elle.” Erik’s voice is muffled by the sheets he still has his face in. “One second I was throwing you into the air and the next I was down.”

How…how…I’m not really asking. Not when I know the answer.

“Are you okay? I saw you lying there, not moving or saying anything.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Light concussion, that’s all.”

---