Page 26 of Lost
“Just do it,” I whisper, fingers shaking as I pull off the bedclothes. I pull on a pair of gloves, but it takes a lot longer than it should because even my teeth are chattering in distress.
This is why he wanted to wake her up. I wonder if she had a chance to talk about this with anyone in the house before they blew it up, but I don’t want to ask Caleb or Lars.
Her finger nails are broken, showing signs of struggle, and I push open her legs as I swallow hard. This feels like such an invasion of her privacy, but there’s no other way to know if she won’t wake up. A quick check has me breathing out a sigh of relief as I find that while there are belt marks all over her skin, blood that isn’t hers all over her butt and thighs, there’s no signs of forced penetration by a penis or knot.
I can’t imagine how she got blood where she has it, and something tells me that I don’t want to.
My heart pounds as I cut off the shirt because of the IV and monitors, promising I’ll replace it in my mind. Hollis’s body looks like a horror show. Moving quickly and efficiently, I wash her body until there’s no signs of blood, dress her on a small patch of clean bedsheets, and then call a nurse because I need them changed.
“Yes?” the speaker squawks.
“I need some assistance changing the sheets for my sister, please,” I say. “I can lift her, but that’s about it.”
“I’ll be right there,” she says. “Did she bleed all over them?”
“I gave her a sponge bath,” I explain. “The sheets are a little wet and there’s blood all over them from earlier as well.”
“I’m on my way,” she says.
I know the hospital is doing the best it can, but I’m frustrated. It could be because I can feel phantom pain throughout my body, or the fact that I’m horrified at how badly my sister was treated when they thought she was me.
That’s it. The knowledge that she shielded me from this pain means I can never repay her. I don’t know how to handle this, and my stress receptors are flooding my system. I can’t ground myself, I simply feel as if I’m being shaken around in an endless cycle.
The door opens to the room, and I jump as the nurse comes in.
“Are you sure you can lift her while I change the sheets?” the nurse asks, closing the door behind her. She has a bundle of sheets in her arms, her eyes on Hollis. There’s a strangled sound that’s cut off beyond the door, but we both ignore it.
“Yes, I can,” I say. I’m stronger than I look, and there’s a system that nurses have for changing the sheets. I won’t be lifting her for long.
Working together, we get the sheets changed, and the nurse tosses them into a bag for removal. She looks at the bloody water in the basin and takes it to the bathroom to throw it out and rinse it before coming back to clear everything that I used to clean Hollis with.
“For all the blood, I’d say that Hollis looks much better now,” she says beside me.
“I’m glad,” I reply. “None of it was hers.”
“Even better. Anyone who treats women this way should be six feet under,” she says vehemently.
My eyes widen at the young red headed nurse and she shrugs. “Ignore me. I’m sometimes a little blood thirsty,” she says with a small laugh. “I’m Marie.”
“Nova,” I murmur. “Thank you for helping me with her.”
“It’s not a problem. Dr. Royal seems to be very protective of this patient and said I’m the only one allowed in here as far as the staff is concerned,” she says. “If it’s anyone other than me, tell her guards because they shouldn’t be here.”
“Thank you,” I say with a small smile, sitting beside Hollis.
Marie nods at me as she leaves with an armful of things, and I gaze at my sister.
I don’t understand this twin connection or why I only feel things that she does at certain times. The pain I’m feeling is escalating, and my eyes narrow as I shift uncomfortably in my chair.
I try to breathe through it because I know she’s on heavy pain medication. Unfortunately, I’m not feeling any of the benefits of it. All I feel is pain.
“Nova!”
“What?” I gasp, turning to see that Caleb is glaring at me. I didn’t even realize that he’d come inside the room. “Do you need something?”
His eyes are blown with panic and he’s rubbing his chest like it hurts.
“Are you having a heart attack?” I ask, pointing at his hand. “Seriously, what’s wrong?”
