Shadow in Glass

Part One: Learning a New World, Chapter One

Carrie opened her eyes slowly, amazed she was still alive.

She was in a hospital; she recognized the smells right away. The room was filled with a late afternoon light filtering through very thick, very expensive-looking drapes. She was about to stretch as she usually did, but the pain in her head halted her instantly. She groaned instead.

"Highness, are you awake?" came a kind and gentle voice.

"Yes," Carrie managed to whisper. "Headache."

"Of course," the voice answered. After some scurrying, the bed inclined, allowing the nurse to put a tablet in her mouth. The nurse held the glass up and helped her drink the water. "It'll take about five minutes for the pain killer to take effect. Please, just close your eyes and relax. You've been through a lot."

Carrie mumbled her agreement. Within a minute, she was asleep again. A talent she'd developed for her more powerful headaches. A twenty minutes nap gave the Percocet an extra ten minutes to kick in.

When she opened her eyes again, she found the headache mostly gone. Her vision had cleared a bit. It looked near sunset through the tapestry drapes on the windows. There was a thin chiffon curtain hung over the window itself. A Persian rug graced the floor and dark-stained teak wood furniture decorated the room.

What the hell kind of hospital hangs tapestry drapes on the window? Carrie thought, glancing down at the rug. With a Persian rug on the floor...and coordinates them!? Dark blues too. Her favorite color.

There was a knock on the door as it swung open. A young, handsome doctor walked into the room. He smiled and gave her a half bow. "I'm happy to see you awake. Any complaints?"

"I had a headache," Carrie said, "but the nurse brought me a pain killer."

"Excellent!" he declared. "Any other problems at all?"

"No, but," she asked, "what hospital is this?"

"St. Luke's, in Mid-town."

Carrie nodded, and paused a moment. "Are Persian rugs in your patients' rooms standard? That doesn't make sense. There's a good chance I could lean over and just regurgitate on it."

The nurse and the doctor exchanged glances. "It was put here on your father's request. He said it was your favorite color, and similar to the one in your rooms. We thought it would help you feel more comfortable."

Carrie shook her head confused. She didn't have a dark blue Persian rug at home, and especially not in her bedroom. She had to admit, though, it was one she would've picked out if she had. "I appreciate the effort, but there's no reason for it to be here."

"But," the nurse began. "What on earth should we do with it? It's your rug."

"How can it be my rug?" She mused, touching her head where the bandage was tugging on her hair. "If it's mine, then one of you take it home or something. Nurse, you take it home."

The nurse's face lit up like nothing she'd ever seen. Carrie was confused. How could the rug be hers? Her father put it there? There was no way this was hers. The thought of her mother's reaction to a Persian rug in a hospital room made her grimace.

The nurse and the doctor conferred quietly in the corner and in moments there was a maintenance crew into the room to roll the rug up and carry it out of the room. Carrie could immediately hear an argument outside the door once it closed, and almost instantly, the door swung open again.

A middle aged man dressed in a uniform that looked different from any she could remember, stomped in and up to her bed. He bowed formally, standing at rigid attention. "Highness, the nurse and doctor are being held outside. They're trying to steal the rug your father bought you for your room."