It has been a year since Annalise Montgomery lost her fifteen year old sister Lilly in the middle of a sunny day when she was waiting in a parking lot.
Annalise takes the case into her control when the police are empty handed. No leads, no traces, n...
A D O R I N G A N N A L I S E Chapter Thirty Eight
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There was no ease into reality.
I am tossed off the mountain and plunged into my senses that identify my surroundings. The smell and sounds are unmistakable.
There was no Lilly Montgomery waiting for me.
There is white walls and disinfectant in her place. Scratchy sheets tickle my bare legs and machines play like instruments. My eyes open to a smooth ceiling, then I scan the empty room.
I'm alone. Laying on a horrible feeling hospital bed with my arm beside me. I stare at the thick white gauze wrapped from the top of my fingers to the middle of my forearm. The layers make it seem massive, like it was a bubble wrap keeping it safe.
My wrist is numb. I can't feel a single thing.
Even my body feels weak and tingling. I blame whatever meds they have me on, or the drip stabbed into my other arm.
I can't be here. I don't want to be here. I need to leave.
I'm unsure of who I'm suppose to be. Something in my head has been tipped into intoxication. All the memories of Reggie Cohen and my little sister storm into my head with pitchforks- jabbing my skull painfully.
I don't believe that Lilly is dead. She can't be. As sick and twisted as Reggie is- I doubt he would've stood there while she supposedly drowned.
When he explain those words, it's seemed like he also wasn't sure what he was saying. The way he paused and looked at the water wasn't right. He's hiding something. I know he is.
I need to figure this out myself like I always have. There is no way I will sit here and twiddle fingers while there is no evidence to prove she truely had moved on.
I'll sit when I have my answers, my proof, my evidence. Starting with either the bridge or Reggie.
I can lift my injured arm, but the wrist is no use. It's like there is a plank of metal or wood beneath the bandage keeping it still. My teeth bite on the drip's cord and rip the needle from my inner elbow.
A hiss breaks through my lips at the sting and small leakage of blood from the spot. Having one functioning hand is very difficult, but I manage to pull whatever the other cords off me. Luckily they were only held with sticky pads.
I suddenly don't like hospitals.
They remind me of death. It walks in the doors daily and only soulless bodies leave. It snakes Reggie Cohen's words into my head, forcing me to think that he said Lilly is dead.
I refuse to believe my sister is a soulless body.
I stand and notice I'm only wearing a pale blue hospital gown that reaches my knees. No shoes, no socks- I check that I at least have underwear on, which thankfully, I do.
