Page 33 of If She Only Knew (The Cahills 1)

The older woman cleared her throat. “Now, dear, you really should take a little nap, if you can. Or read. There’s an intercom on the bed stand and just ring when you want something. I already asked Carmen to bring you tea, a pitcher of water and your medication, already mixed in with a little orange juice.”

For the first time since leaving the hospital, Marla accepted the fact that she was tiring; that she hadn’t yet regained all her strength. Her head was thundering and she needed some time alone, to lie in her own bed, fight the pain and try like crazy to make some sense of this life that seemed so foreign, to force herself to recall any jagged little piece of memory. “Maybe I will lie down,” she said after taking one more look at her baby. Suddenly bone-weary, Marla walked to her room and kicked off her shoes.

Eugenia closed the shades. “Rest now,” she suggested.

“Thanks,” Marla said as she eyed the elevated bed with its lace canopy.

You don’t live here; you’ve never lived here. This isn’t your house; this isn’t your bed. No way. The thought seared through her brain, but Marla ignored it; she was just too damned tired. She would remember. Soon.

“If you need anything else, anything at all, just use the intercom here, it’s one of those plug-in types, but it works well.” Eugenia motioned to a bedside table and pushed on a black button. “Carmen?” She lifted her finger.

“Yes, Mrs. Cahill,” came the reply.

Eugenia pushed the button again. “We’re fine. Don’t need anything . . .” she said, lifting an eyebrow at Marla who caught the signal that if she wanted anything now was the time to ask. She shook her head and her mother-in-law spoke toward the box again. “I was just showing Marla how to reach you. Thank you.” Eugenia lifted her finger.

This is a test, only a test. The words flew through Marla’s mind, but she couldn’t remember where she’d heard them before. And right now, tired and aching, she didn’t give a damn.

“I’m staying in tonight,” Eugenia said. “Is there anything else you’d like? I see the juice is already here. No doubt it’s got your dose of medication in it.” She motioned to the night table where a tall glass of orange juice was sweating on a lace cloth.

“Nothing.”

“Well, just let Carmen know. Now, lie down and don’t worry about a thing.”

Fat chance. It seemed as if all she did was worry about who she was, the accident, her family, her damned memory. Her head was thundering again. “Where’s Cissy?”

Eugenia fumbled with the pearls at her neck. “Well, I let her go over to a friend’s. She waited around for a while, but you were late . . .”

“Red tape at the hospital. Some foul-up with the release forms,” Marla said, remembering her own impatience at being detained even a second longer than she needed to have been.

“Anyway, I shouldn’t have let her go over to the Thomases, but you have seen her the last couple of days and frankly, I was tired of her grumbling about being bored and all . . . I didn’t let her go riding, and Lord did I hear about that.” She clucked her tongue, as if the thirteen-year-old was already too much to handle.

“It’s all right.”

“I’ll make sure she’s home when you wake up.”

“Thanks.”

“Glad you’re back, Marla.” Eugenia smiled as she shut the door and Marla let out her breath. She drank from the glass of juice and winced at the bitter taste. The pain medication. Good. In a few minutes her head would stop aching. Maybe her mother-in-law was right. Maybe things would be better after a good night’s sleep in her own bed.

Stripping down to panties and bra, she tumbled into the bed and felt the cool sheets caress her skin. The bed was comfortable, the soft down quilt heavenly and her eyelids felt as if they each weighed a ton.

Exhaustion overtook her. She was grateful to forget about the questions that had been plaguing her ever since she’d woken up from her coma. Everyone was right; she was just confused. That was it. Because of the accident. That had to be what it was.

Otherwise everyone was lying to her.

The lab coat was a couple of sizes too big, but it didn’t matter. It was all the camouflage he needed. One of the burn ward nurses hadn’t shown up for duty tonight as her car had been disabled, her cell phone stolen and the other two were run ragged as the hospital was searching for staff to fill the void.

By the time they managed that, he’d be finished.

The lights were too bright for his liking, but there wasn’t much he could do about that, and he shoved a pair of tortoiserimmed glasses onto his nose. Slipping into his role of intern easily, he walked with confidence. The name tag on his lapel and picture were of Carlos Santiago. He figured no one would notice that the image on the card didn’t match his face as he strode with the authority of someone who knew what he was doing. That he belonged.

What a joke.

He’d never belonged anywhere. Had always been on the outside looking in. Well now he wasn’t only looking, he was fucking pounding on the window.

Near the burn ward, he lingered in an alcove, then waited until the overworked nurse on duty was called into a room. As she disappeared through the door he crept on silent footsteps to Charles Biggs’s room.

Lying in the bed, the man looked like a monster. Any skin that was visible was red and oozing. Bandages swathed part of his body. He was unmoving, tubes going in and out of his body, an IV dripping pain medication and God-only-knew-what else into his bloodstream.

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