Page 52 of The Last Sunrise

Lena rushes into the room, a phone in her hand.

“Isolde is right here, if you could hold on for a moment.” She looks at my mom, afraid of being barked at but clearly needing her on the phone.

No matter the time or place, SetCorp will always need her, and they’ll always come first.

“I’m sorry, Ry. I need to take this.” She grabs the phone from Lena, and to my surprise she does look sorry for once.

Even so, I’m so fucking angry at her, I don’t let the opportunity to let her know pass. “Of course you do. I just woke up in a hospital, but hey! There’s someone’s money to take, right?”

“Ry…” Her voice is soft, a little broken, but nevertheless she exits the room, phone to her ear.

“Unbelievable,” I say to myself, the anger from earlier filling me again.

“I’m ready to go,” I tell Lena and the nurse as soon as the nurse enters the room. The event will start in less than two hours, which means my flight is in less than six hours. I have to get out of here. Far, far away from this place at any cost.

“You just woke up, Ry,” Lena tells me.

“How long was I out?”

“Only ten minutes or so. This hospital is only a few blocks away from where you had your episode.”

“I’m not sure we can release you.” The nurse looks into the hallway toward my mother.

“I’m an adult. I’ve had plenty of seizures in my life. There are no aftereffects that anyone here can do anything about. Aside from being a little tired, I’m completely fine. But there’s nothing that a hospital can do that I can’t do from my hotel. There’s no aftercarefor a seizure, unless I have injuries.” I look down and around my hospital gown–covered body and move my arms and legs.

“Which I don’t. So, I want to be released. Now. Unless you have a tuberous sclerosis specialist on this island who says otherwise?”

I don’t like taking my frustration out on the innocent, now speechless, nurse, but I’m not a child and I have every right, legally, to leave this hospital. They can’t keep me against my will, and I won’t allow them to.

“I understand,” the woman says, her accent beautiful and thick. “I’ll work on your discharge with the doctor now.”

“Thank you,” I tell her, and turn to Lena. “Don’t let her keep me here.” I try to get my mother’s only ally on my side.

“Please.” My voice cracks as I beg. “You know there’s nothing to keep me here for.”

She blows air out of her mouth; her brows furrow and she tucks her short hair behind her ears. “Okay. She’s thinking of canceling the event.”

“No, no. She can’t.” I begin to panic, knowing that if she does, it will be impossible for me to escape.

“Mom!” I yell her name, and she whips around, ending the call she’s on, heels clacking as she rushes to my side.

“Don’t cancel the event. You said it was for a good cause and the Arts Center needs all the funding it can get. I don’t want to ruin that,” I say to her, the words burning in my throat. “And everyone has worked so hard. I want to go.” The lie coats my tongue. “I really want to go. Please, Mom.” My eyes fill with tears, but not for the reason she thinks.

“Ry. Are you that out of it? There’s no way you can go. Even if I can’t cancel because of the donors and sponsors, there’s no way in hell you can go. You’re in the hospital, for god’s sake.”

“And I’ve been in the hospital a million times in my life,” I remind her. “This was the one thing I was looking forward to, Mom.” It makes me sick to my stomach, but I reach for her hands and squeeze them. Her eyes fill with tears, and I know I’ve won as she blinks them away, slowly pulling her hands out of mine.

I can see the options weighing in her dark eyes. The guilt, the pressure from her bosses and people who wrote checks for a lot of money. “Are you positive you feel okay?”

I nod. “This isn’t the first time, Mom. And it doesn’t seem to have been a bad one. I’m fine, and if I feel anything other than fine, I’ll go back to my room. I really, really want to go, Mom.” I manage a smile, playing on the rare vulnerability I sense from her. I don’t think I’ve ever said “Mom” so many times in my life.

I’m not fine. I haven’t been fine in a long, long time, but I’ve known that for a while, and so has she. I don’t want to waste any more time. As I sign the discharge paperwork, my mom asks me over and over if I’m sure I can manage the charity gala. I assure her that I can, and she orders the stylist, the glam team, and lord knows who else to be in her room waiting for us when we arrive back at the hotel.

Chapter Twenty-One

The hotel ballroom has been stunning since I arrived in Mallorca, but tonight it’s astonishing. White silk ribbons hang from the ceiling to the floor, draping the gigantic room in a pillowy dream of delicate lights and wavy chiffon. It feels like I’m inside a marshmallow, beautiful and elegant and soft and dreamy. There are twinkling lights everywhere, reflecting off the ballroom floor, filling the room with small golden stars. Hundreds of translucent LED balloons hang in the air, the lights making them appear as if they are full of glitter. As much as I complained during the process, the room truly is magical and breathtaking. The space is slightly dark, making it more whimsical and dreamlike. It looks more like a fairy-tale wedding than a celebration disguised as a charity event.

“It’s stunning, isn’t it?” My mother’s familiar voice fills my ears.

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