Page 58 of The Shape of my Scar
She nodded, just barely.
The next few minutes were awful.
The tube scraped its way out of her throat, leaving a trail of fire behind. She gagged and coughed, chest heaving, bringing up thick, stringy phlegm that tasted like metal and rot.
“Good,” the doctor said, gently patting her shoulder. “You’re breathing well. We’ll aim to remove the chest tube in the next day or two.”
She nodded weakly.
Everything hurt, but she was alive.
The nurses began to blur into familiar faces—Mary with the singing voice and Sam, who told awful jokes; young, rebellious Imogen with the silver nail polish, which she was not supposed to have on. The matron made her take it off. She memorised their voices, their kindness.
A few days later, they moved her down to HDU. The room was quieter, the light more natural. There were windows here, and she could see clouds.
That afternoon, Arthur came to see her.
He hadn’t said much at first, just stood by her bed with a soft, crumpled expression. His grizzled face had never looked so tender.
“You scared the shit out of us, little one,” he murmured, his voice catching. “You’re getting a desk job. You hear me? No more fieldwork. That’s the end of it.”
She smiled, faint and tired. Her throat rasped as she whispered, “Yes, Dad.”
His eyes filled. He squeezed her shoulder, and for the first time since waking, she let herself relax. She was safe now.
***
Cormac and Callum visited every day. Sometimes together, sometimes separately.
Cormac always brought something—flavoured water, clean socks, even a packet of Faolan’s favourite crisps. He still didn’t say much, but his presence made her feel safe.
Callum was chattier.
He told her what she missed—small stories, gossip. He told her about the Horsemen. About Maro getting banned from the vending machine for shaking it too hard.
But it was always there between the lines.
The person they didn’t talk about.
Finally, one afternoon, Faolan said it herself. “Thane?”
Callum nodded, hesitant. “He comes every day.”
She looked out the window. “I’m not ready,” she whispered,” I just…can’t face him yet.”
“I know,” he said. “But he waits, anyway.”
Chapter 28
Two Weeks Later…
A strange combination of the smell of reheated beans and lemon cleaner filled the hospital cafeteria. Callum wrinkled his nose but said nothing. The coffee was passable, barely.
Faolan was slowly but steadily making progress. She was beginning to sit up in bed and had been allowed liquids instead of being fed through a tube.
Thane took a slow sip, wincing, then dug into the plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of him. He hadn’t eaten since the previous afternoon. The eggs were bland and lumpy, the toast underdone, but he didn’t complain. None of the Horsemen were fussy about food. You learned not to be when you’d gone hungry long enough.
Callum forked a bite into his mouth, chewed carefully and swallowed. Then he smiled faintly. Of the twins, he was more approachable.
