The Movement of the Earth

Visitors

and every sun ascending / a lonesome moon will grow
Bat For Lashes, "Sleep Alone"

13: Visitors

I woke to the familiar smell of antiseptic.

"Bells?"

I blinked groggily. "Dad?"

Charlie's face came into my field of vision, backlit by halogen lights. "You are never leaving the house again," he said bluntly. "Not until I think you can date a boy without winding up in the hospital."

I groaned, and the sound seemed to vibrate in my skull. Everything was too bright: the white sheets, the white lights, the white walls, the white bandages around my hand-

The sight of the bandages jolted me back into reality. "Jacob," I gasped. "Where's Jacob?"

"He's fine, Bella- hey, hey!" Charlie grabbed me by the upper arms as I tried to get out of the hospital bed, the room tilting as I moved. "Lay down," he commanded as he pushed me back onto the thin, stiff mattress.

There was no point in resisting; the sudden motions I'd undertaken had left me as dizzy as if I'd been spinning in a circle with my arms flung out. Something felt disjointed in my body. "What's wrong with me?" I asked as I settled back gingerly.

"You have a concussion." Charlie pulled the blankets back over my legs, smoothing out the creases. We were in a quiet single room with no equipment and only a single IV in my arm; at least it wasn't intensive care. "And they've given you a lot of morphine."

That explained the spinning. "For what?"

Charlie swallowed. "For your hand." I looked down. My right hand had a new cast running up to my elbow. My left hand was completely covered in loose white gauze. I tried to move my fingers, but nothing happened. I didn't feel anything. "They're going keep you 'til this afternoon, Bells. The doctors still aren't sure if you'll need skin grafts. It's... pretty bad, kiddo."

Of course. My hand had been on fire. Through the disconnect in my brain, I put together the choppy memories: the flames flying through the sky, Jacob's transformation, Victoria's game, the cold water against my face, the car crash, Paul vomiting in the bushes, Emily holding a bloody towel against Sam's side...

I was desperate to know where everyone was and if they were okay, but I couldn't ask Charlie. "What happened?" I said carefully. There would be a cover story, certainly, but I didn't know what it was. "I... don't remember much."

Charlie's expression darkened abruptly. "You fell into a bonfire," he growled. "At Emily Young's house. And then Jacob Black crashed your truck trying to take you to the emergency room. He broke your cast and gave you a concussion."

"But where's Jake?" I asked anxiously. "Is he okay?" All I could remember was the warm brush of fur against my face and screaming-

"He's just fine," Charlie snapped. "You're the only one who got hurt. He went home after he dropped you off. Some kid named Paul got the two of you off the side of the road and brought you the rest of the way." His face began to turn red. "Did anyone call an ambulance? No. Did anyone call the fire department? No. Did anyone call me? No! If I hadn't already been here I wouldn't even have known!"

"Dad-"

"The doctors tell me Harry's died, then some intern comes over and says Hey, Chief, your daughter's just come into the ER! You fell into a bonfire and destroyed your hand, and those kids decided to drive you to the hospital! And then got in a car crash! I'm surprised they didn't dump you in the driveway and run off!"

"Dad-"

"I swear to God, Isabella, you are never to step foot on the reservation again. I am going to find out what those hooligans are up to, and I'm going to put a stop to it. And I don't care if I have to wrap you in bubble wrap and lock you in your room, you are not allowed to keep getting injured, do you understand? I forbid it!"