Page 7 of Little Sparrow

“My father can’t find out I speak to you, he isn’t a good man and it would put you in danger. That’s why you will never know my last name. And it’s best if I don't know yours.” He sighs, it’s as though he has already surrendered to this fate. Surely his dad would let him speak to a simple English girl?

I open my mouth to ask about it, but high pitched beeps faintly echo in the room and I cover my ears. I look around, but I don’t know where it’s coming from. “Do you hear that?” I ask, raising my voice to be heard. Fingers grab my chin and he pulls me to face him. His eyes search my face, I’m not sure what for.

“What can you hear?” He asks, concern written all over his handsome face. I open my mouth to speak, but the noise gets louder. My eyes scrunch shut as I try to block out the noise.

My dad’s voice breaks through, he’s talking to someone, “I’m taking her out of here, we have a private doctor, she will be fine,” He argues. It hits me that I must be in hospital. My dad is here. I give Dante an apologetic smile and wake us up.

My dad is still speaking to the nurse, my head pounds, a soft pillow is under my head. The room smells strongly of cleaning products. I try to move, but all my muscles ache and I’m attached to something that's tugging on my hand. A moan slips out, gaining the nurses attention. I open my eyes and squint at the bright light behind the nurse, she looks back at my dad who rubs his hand down his face, red circles under his eyes making his brown eyes look dull.

“We need to keep her in for observation Mr Thompson, you can’t just take her out, there are some unusual results on the blood test.” The nurse is leaning over me like she is protecting me from my dad, holding my medical chart in one hand.

“She is my daughter and we are leaving. Her private doctor knows all her previous medical and will be able to help her better than you can.” My dad argues, hand resting on my shoulder, giving me a little squeeze.

My eyes flick between them both and I push myself up in the bed. They both watch me carefully. “I feel fine, a little sore, but fine.”

The nurse narrows her eyes like she doesn’t believe me. But really I do feel okay.

“We need to keep you in and run some more tests, in case of internal bleeding we may not know about yet. You’re eighteen now, it’s your decision. Although I do recommend staying.” She gives me a look of hope that I will choose to stay here, but her eyes shift slightly to the closed curtain, I almost miss it. I hesitate answering, something doesn’t feel right and I can’t put my finger on it.

An announcement comes over the speakers, the nurse in front of me curses and slides my chart at the bottom of my bed. “Don’t move,” She says before running off. I turn to my dad and narrow my eyes, “We can leave, but you need to tell me what is happening.” His shoulders slump. “I need a little more time,” he says, but grabs the wheelchair from the corner of the room and helps me into it anyway. I rip out the IV from my arm.

My white hospital gown is all I'm wearing now, my dad wraps his jacket around my shoulders. My arm is bandaged, and other short memories of the crash come back to me. The other car, what happened? I hope they are okay. My dad must have read my face, “The person in the other car is fine, and was alone.”

The breath I was holding rushes out in relief. My head leans back and throbs, I reach up to my head, a bandage. How did I almost forget that? It’s not as sore anymore though.

My dad steers the wheelchair out the doors and helps me out so we can walk to his car. I don’t need help, but my dad is rushing. They must have been having a long conversation before I woke up. We reach the doors of his car and I climb in, relieved to get out of the hospital. That nurse gave me bad vibes, I don’t know what it could have been, but I know staying wouldn’t have been a good idea.

We arrive at our apartment and park in our usual spot. But before my dad can get out of the car, I know I need to stop him so I grab his forearm just as his hand curls around the door handle. “What is going on with me, why do I need a private doctor, I know we can’t afford it.” My lips thin, I’m trying to stay calm, but I’m frustrated.

He sighs and drags his hand down his face, “You don’t need any doctor, as long as they got all the glass out, you’ll be fine.” I drop my hand and open my mouth to speak, but I unravel the bandage from my arm, it tingles and I need to see the damage. Once peeled away I stare at my smooth clean arm. No cuts at all. I check the bandage and there is some blood so I wasn’t fully healed when they wrapped me up, but they could have seen it all if my dad had let me stay in hospital. Too many questions.

I can see why he wanted me out before they could check it. Could that have been why the nurse wanted me to stay? Unusual bloods she had said.

“Your mum will have all the answers, I don’t have many. This accident, if you weren't what you are, you could have died tonight.” His head drops against the steering wheel. I want to know more, I need to know.

“What’s going on with me?” I whisper. I’m not sure what kind of answer I want, is it that bad that he can’t tell me. All of a sudden I’m not so sure. Damn this car feels too small for this type of conversation.

He stares up at me. “If I tell you, there is no going back. Everything changes. Even between us.” His face is strained as he watches me, waiting for me to speak. I swallow past the lump in my throat, I’ve been waiting for this moment, the time I will get answers for everything. But I’m scared. “What do you mean everything changes?” I ask, fidgeting.

“You won’t be you anymore,” He holds his hand over his jaw and rubs against it. I don’t think he is consciously doing it.

“Is that why you have been avoiding me? Because I can heal fast and have lucid dreams?” The sun rises, a glow illuminates inside the car, highlighting the stress lines. Maybe today isn’t a good idea to talk about this, if he didn’t avoid me I could have found out earlier.

“Honestly, I don’t know how to tell you, I was looking for someone who knows more, who can help you more than I can. Please be patient with me. It’s been a long night.” He pleads with me to understand.

I reluctantly agree and leave the car frustrated. I'm angry at him, but more at myself. The guilt of not telling me was eating away at him and me pushing was making it worse. I rush up the stairs on the cold concrete and push into our unlocked apartment, slumping on my bed. I had my chance for answers, but my dad was scared for me. He has been stressed for a while. I will make sure I have another opportunity soon. I’m curious what he meant by someone else who can help. Are there more like me?

Chapter five

Dante

Calabria, Italy

Afterleavingthedream,I notice the sun hasn’t risen yet. It’s four-thirty am. I can’t stay still. Today will be another day of my father avoiding me questioning the Sparrow. But I know the file is in his locked office, probably in his locked drawer. The safe would be a too easy option that people would go for. I know his drawers have fake bottoms.

My father's office is on the lowest floor, he likes to be on the same level at all times. If someone barges in the house, he will know straight away. Even with security and bulletproof windows, he still likes to be careful. I know he has two locks on his office door and I don’t have a key. My father will have that with him. Luckily, I know how to pick locks. I need to be quick, before anyone wakes, though. I crack my door open, avoiding making any sound, then open it a few inches when I know that no one is coming, closing it gently behind me.

I tip-toe down the hallway, avoiding the creaky steps that I had memorised years ago. Making it easy to get to the main staircase. Knowing I need to be quick, I rush down the steps and grip hold of the bannister. They barely make a noise, I let out a breath of relief once I reach the bottom. I stop to check my surroundings and listen out for any noise in all directions. Nothing. The staff are not here yet, but I don’t have long.

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