Play of Shadows

Chapter 67: Human After All

Ann woke up six days later, in a hospital room lit up with enough equipment to power a village.

She tried to sit up, setting off an alarm and startling her father from his dozing vigil at her bedside. A slew of nurses and doctors invaded the room almost instantaneously. Her mother led the charge, in tears and looking torn on the question of whether to scold or hug Ann first.

Once the doctors ran their tests and asked their nonsensical questions, she opted for both at the same time.

"Of all the stupid things," her mother sniffed, holding Ann as carefully as one might a baby bird.

"We're proud of you," her father offered, voice suspiciously shaky. His words were heavy when he added, "Never do that again."

Ann nodded at intervals and did her best to look contrite. Her throat was swollen from screaming that she did not remember doing. Her muscles felt like cooked noodles, all exposed nerves and no substance. She could barely keep her eyes open. The overhead lights were dimmed to the lowest setting and it still felt like she was staring into the sun.

Ann slept most of that first conscious day away. It was true rest, at least, not the comatose state that had kept her parents in a state of panic ever since their daughter was pulled out from the remains of a smoking pod. Her mother delighted in showing off the new patch of gray hair she had acquired during Ann's short stint as a VR strike team. Her father's head was looking shinier, as well, but both women were smart enough not to bring attention to the fact.

The doctor assigned to Ann's case ran every test known to man, and several he might have made up on the spot. Ann bore the constant prodding and beeping of mysterious machinery with as much patience as she could squeeze out of her exhausted body. She was eventually deemed in relatively good health, much to her parents' joy and the astonishment of the medical staff gathered to hear the results.

"How in the world did you manage to tear a hamstring lying still?" her mother groused after the doctor and a gaggle of gawking personnel departed.

Ann opened her mouth, then wisely closed it again. Her parents didn't need to know what a faulty VR immersion could do to a human body. The fact that Ann had emerged with all of her bones intact and no brain damage was already a miracle, and a testament to the quality of VELES tech.

The thought was sobering. "Mom, did anyone come to visit, while I was..." Ann trailed off, uncertain how to phrase her near-death experience in a way that would not send her mother into another worried tirade.

Her mother stopped her aggressive fluffing of Ann's pillows. "Visitation wasn't allowed, but a few of your friends stopped by to check up on you. Frances, of course – he is a nice boy, you should've gone with him instead of –"

"Dear," Ann's father reminded, not looking up from where he was monitoring the news, purposefully out of Ann's line of sight.

Ann's mother let out a huff. "Well. I haven't met the others, but they left their names and contact numbers. Remember not to overdo it, the doctor has only just cleared you for visits!"

"Did – did Kellan leave a message? Or someone on his behalf?" Ann asked, trying not to sound too eager.

Naturally, her mother immediately marked the strangeness of her tone. "I don't think so," she said.

"Oh." Inspiration struck, and Ann asked again, "What about Alexander?"

Her mother's eyebrows climbed up an inch. "No Alexander, either," she said.

Ann noticed the interest in the woman's voice a moment too late.

"Who is this Kellan?" her father asked. He had let the news play on for the ceiling's benefit, suddenly fully focused on the conversation on hand.