Dating the Dead • lrh

33. the hospital

"Megabyte!"

I called after Shelby. She was a few steps ahead of me and I thought I'd call her like Peter did. She stopped in her tracks and spun to face me. Her lips pulled into a grin. I jogged to her side and we walked slowly.

"So why Megabyte?" I asked, stuffing my hands in my pockets.

She let out a laugh. "Michelle Beatrice. In computer language, MB stands for megabyte. It was an inside joke."

"You seemed pretty close."

"Yeah, I was his first patient-" she stopped short. I was about to tell her it's okay if she didn't feel like talking about it but she chuckled and continued. "Come on, I'll tell you in the chapel."

I followed her through a glass door. Inside, a table and a podium stood between the tapestry of religious symbols and four short pews. We sat at the back, nearest to the door.

Shelby didn't talk immediately. We both just stared at the altar. I'm not really religious but for this time, I meant my prayers.

I thanked God first. For everything. I thanked Him for my life, my family, my talents, and for Shelby. Next, I apologized for my poor faith. Then I prayed for Molly's recovery.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. The hospital smell was as strong in here as it is outside. When I opened my eyes to look at Shelby, I found her already staring at me.

Her lips pulled into a smile. "It looked like you prayed for a lot of things."

"Yeah, it has been a while," I cleared my throat, "so, you were saying?" I referred to the conversation we had in the hallway.

"Well," she heaved out a breath, "as what I was told, since I can't remember anything, I had a head injury when I was six. I was walking near a playground and got hit by a baseball. They told me I was in coma for weeks they feared I'm never waking up. But then I did, about two and a half months, with no memory."

She stopped talking as if she's remembering. I, however, grew curious. "Was that what Iowan talked about?"

Shelby chuckled, shaking her head. "Not really. We met Iowan in England. He's the son of Dad's business associate.

Dad, he thought it would be best to take me with him. While I had my therapy, he's out doing business. Thinking about it, being in England was the perfect escape for the both of us. I get to be well. He gets to be away from the ruins of our family.

Anyway, we spent two years there. I got better and was homeschooled. So by the time we got back her in 'Straya, I was a healthy eight year old. Was. I still had to go through therapy because there are times that my mind goes blank."

"And that's when you met Peter."

She gave me a small nod. "Yeah, the time when my my life became a huge photo shoot." I heard a soft laugh from her.

"So, um, have you..." I struggled to find the right words. I don't want to upset her. "Have you had-"

She lifted her feet on the pew and hugged her knees. "I had minor memory fluctuations. The last one was, like, two days ago. We were on our way here and then the next thing I knew, I was in one of the rooms. Took me a day to recuperate. I just got out."

"Did they tell you what happened?"

She rested her cheek on her bent knees. Her eyes studied me for a long time before she spoke again. "Apparently, I freaked out because I didn't know where I was and who I was with. Ashton and Happy were lucky I went batshit crazy in the lift."