Page 127 of Of Light and Dark

Chapter Thirty-Seven

It doesn't take longbefore the door opens again. Besides a five-second pee break, I haven’t abandoned my spot on the mattress. My birth mother has proven by now that she is certifiable, so there is no way I’ll turn my back on her.

Emily stalks toward me with Gray close on her heels. I crane my neck to see their faces as they stop in front of my makeshift bed. Taking in my mother's expression—or lack thereof—my pulse increases to an uncomfortable level.

Her eyes are dead, and she looks at me like one examines a bug right before squashing it. My gaze flicks to the man behind her, and he appears almost conflicted, which scares me even more. What’s going to ha— I see her hand move out of my peripheral vision, but before I can react, I feel the sting in my thigh.

"Ahhhh!" I jerk my head around and stare in horror at the syringe sticking out of my leg.

"Now that this is done"—she pulls the needle out and holds it up for Gray to take—"we'll chat when you're back."

Back?

Still thinking the word, both of them turn fuzzy and then—

Voices register in my brain,but it's hard to concentrate on them. I feel like I'm lying on a merry-go-round with my eyes closed. What. The. Hell is going on? My forehead wrinkles as I'm straining to make out the words. Slowly they're starting to make sense.

"—been out for too long. How much did you put in?"

"The same amount the doc always gives."

Slap.

"Did your drugs finally reduce your IQ to the single digits? She is half the size of him. We wanted her unconscious for a few hours, not an entire day. The addict in you should know that you need to adjust the dose based on body weight."

Another slap.

"She’ll be awake soon. Why are you in such a rush? Your fucking wine and beach chair aren’t running away." Gray’s tone seeps annoyance.

"What’s the rush?" she barks followed by a grunt.

"Stop slapping me, Em," Gray growls.

He stops her from making contact a third time.

With the dizziness slowly subsiding, I peel my eyes open, and the white ceiling comes into view. I take inventory—how many freaking times have I had to do that in the last six months? I'm on the mattress. Okay, they didn't move me. Turning my head, I notice that the door to the room is open, and Emily and Gray stand out in the hallway. They don't pay me any attention. Their guard is down, which is...odd.

I wiggle my fingers then my toes. Where are my toes? I can't feel my toes. I bolt up—or more like attempt to, because from the belly button down, there is nothing.

Instant panic sets in. "Oh, God!" I exclaim before I can stop myself. I scramble up onto my elbows, one arm buckling once before I can steady myself and stare at my lower half. They’re there, physically, but there's no sensation in either of my legs. Or my butt.

My stomach revolts. I feel sick. Quickly, I turn to the side and heave, but nothing comes up.

"You’re back!" Emily’s cheery tone makes the hair on my nape stand. She talks like I just came home from school. This woman is insane.

Lifting my gaze from the floor, I choke, "What the hell did you do to me?"

"Nothing permanent—yet," she chirps.

Yet?

Gray remains at the other end of the room, watching both of us closely.

Emily picks up the plastic cup I had put down next to the mattress and holds it to my lips. I want to refuse her offer. I don't want her anywhere near me, but my body demands the water. I greedily gulp it down, though it's not nearly enough.

I’m not going to ask for more.

"So, my darling daughter." I focus on Emily, who’s still squatting in front of me.

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