Page 23 of Silos and Sabotage

“I must have been drifting in and out of consciousness,” she continued.

“Which is perfectly normal after major surgery.” He wanted to reach for her hand, but he held off, not wanting to interrupt the flow of her shattered memories. Ever since she’d woken up after being poisoned, they’d been returning, slowly but steadily.

“At some point, I woke up and saw a woman sitting beside my dad. She was in a wheelchair, I think.” Her voice hitched with emotion.

A woman in the room? This was new. Gage’s heart pounded with excitement.

“They were arguing. Not loud enough for me to hear what they were saying, but they were definitely disagreeing about something. It sounded like the woman was crying.”

“What do you remember about her?” He slowed his speed, not wanting to arrive at the sanctuary before she finished describing her latest newly restored memory.

Ella spread her hands. “She had blonde hair, but her face was turned away from me. I never got a good look at her.”

“What was she wearing?” Her organ donor had also been a blonde. Gage would give anything to know if it was the same woman.

She shook her head. “Something dark, I think. Not jeans, though.”

“Not a hospital gown?”Think, think, think, beautiful.

“Definitely not a hospital gown. She was stylish. In a pantsuit, maybe?”

Disappointment coursed through him. If the woman had been her donor, she would’ve likely still been in a hospital bed herself.

But Ella wasn’t done remembering. “She waved her hands a lot while she talked. Her fingernails were painted red.”

Red fingernails. That was a new detail. His excitement returned. Her organ donor’s fingernails had been painted red. “Was she wearing any jewelry?”

Ella frowned in consideration. “No. Not even a wedding ring. The next thing I knew…” She muffled a ragged sob.

“I’m sorry to keep putting you through this.” Gage hated himself a little for doing it.

“I know you’re only trying to help.” She sniffled damply. “I’m sorry. I can’t remember anything else about her.”

“You did great!” He felt like hugging her. “This is the first time you’ve mentioned the woman in a wheelchair.”

Her eyes widened. “It is, isn’t it?” Her momentary burst of glee quickly faded. “I don’t know if the rest of my story is a figment of my imagination or if I really witnessed what came next.”

“Tell me anyway.” They reached the entrance to the Heart Lake Animal Rescue Sanctuary. Since it was located right smack in the middle of a residential lake community, there was no billboard signage near the road. Instead, an ornate wooden sign was swinging in the breeze from a short, L-shaped iron pole. The name of the sanctuary was engraved into it.

Ella drew a deep, shuddery breath. “Like I’ve told you before, a man came out of nowhere. I don’t know if he’d been hiding under my bed or what.”

“You’re sure it was a man?” He doubted the intruder had been hiding under her bed. Her father would’ve surely noticed him there.

“Very sure.” She shuddered. “He didn’t have a face. He was more of a shadow than a man, but he had a knife. It all happened so fast! He ran up behind my dad and slashed at his throat. There was blood. So much blood. The woman screamed for help, and the man with the knife lunged her way, but people came running. Lots of people dressed in white. Then he disappeared.” She snapped her fingers.

Gage mulled over her latest version of the incident as he turned onto the gravel entrance lane and rolled closer to the triple-silo structure. The part about the faceless man puzzled him. “Is it possible he was wearing some sort of mask?”

She pondered the question. “I don’t know. I could see the bumps where his eyes, nose, and mouth should’ve been, but that’s it. He was all dark and blurry.”

A new possibility popped into his head. “He could’ve had hosiery pulled over his face. Tights, stockings, or whatever else people are calling them these days.”

“Maybe.” She sounded doubtful. “Or I could’ve imagined it all.” She pressed her fingertips to her temples. “Things are still so messed up inside my head. Sometimes, it’s hard to sort out what’s real and what’s not.”

“You’re getting there,” he soothed. “You’ve made so much progress already.” It might not hurt to have her sit down with a sketch artist and see if she could give them a stronger description. Just thinking about it made him wish his younger brother, Rock, was in town. Rock had always been an incredible artist. Maybe he could set up a zoom call with him or something.

Since they were nearly at their destination, he nudged her back to her story. “What happened next?”

“I was moved.” She seemed very sure about that detail. “I remember my bed rolling down a long hallway. A very lo-o-o-ong hallway.”

---