The Heart of Wonderland

Chapter 4

Morning sunlight streamed in through the slats of the white institutional blinds covering the windows and Alison shaded her eyes with a hand as she looked out at the hospital's snow-covered grounds. In the week since she'd woken up in the intensive care unit at St. Jude's, she'd recovered enough to be moved to her own private room, and now she was finally going to be discharged.

Alison looked out at the nurses' station where Caroline was completing paperwork. Her aunt had been so worried about her since breaking the news of her parents' death, Alison had barely gotten a minute alone to process everything that had happened. She breathed a sigh of relief now at her moment of alone time, then immediately felt guilty. How selfish could she get? Her parents were dead, and she was annoyed instead of grateful that Caroline had dropped everything and come to look after her at a moment's notice.

"I miss you so much," Alison whispered, leaning her head against the window. The cold glass against her forehead reminded her of the seconds just before the accident. What had her father been thinking? What had he been running from?

There had been a knight, she remembered, in black armour. But surely that wasn't what had caused her father to drive so erratically. It didn't make any sense—why would he be afraid of one more eccentric New Yorker when the city was filled with them? You could stand on any busy street corner near Times Square and see someone dressed as a cartoon character or a superhero, posing with tourists for a price.

The doctors had warned her that her memory might be affected by the concussion, and she hoped they were wrong. Remembering those horrible last minutes wouldn't bring her parents back, but memories were all she had of them now. She wanted to keep every last one.

"All set?" Caroline asked from behind her. Alison turned to see her aunt force a smile. "I'll bet you're glad to be getting out of here, huh?"

"Yeah, right. Just in time for the funeral."

Caroline's face fell. "I know this is hard for you, but I'm doing the best I can. I wish you would at least try to talk to the psychologist the hospital recommended."

"I don't need a psychologist," Alison snapped. "My parents are dead, I'm angry. I think that's a pretty normal reaction."

Caroline sighed. "I know you feel terrible right now, but I need you to work with me a little bit. I'm doing the best I can to help you and look after things, but I'm grieving too. Your mother was my big sister."

Alison looked down and kicked the bed with the toe of one soft, brown leather boot. "Sorry," she mumbled.

"Don't be sorry," Caroline answered. "Just be yourself. Only, you know, not so grouchy." She smiled to show Alison she was joking, and Alison found herself almost smiling back for the first time in a week.

Then she remembered her parents again and the almost-smile slid off her face before it had a chance to fully form.

"What's going to happen now?" she asked, voicing the question that had been tumbling around inside her head since waking up in the hospital. "Are you going to stay here in New York or do I have to move back to L.A. with you? When do I have to go back to school?"

Caroline blinked. "Oh. Wow. I guess we have a lot to talk about. I was so focused on getting you well enough to go home, we haven't talked about all that stuff. Do you want to go to L.A.?"

Alison thought about it, then slowly shook her head. "No. I mean, I don't think so. It will be hard to be reminded of Mom and Dad all the time, but New York is home. I don't want to try to forget about them just because it hurts. You know?"

"Yeah." Caroline smiled sadly. "I know. It's decided then—we'll stay here."

"What about your business?"

Caroline shrugged. "I'll miss the beach, but I can take photographs anywhere. It's not like New York is a one-horse town. There are lots of galleries here where I can show my work. And I still have friends here from my modeling days."

"What about school?"

"I asked the doctors about that and they said you'll probably have trouble reading until the concussion heals. If you want to pick up some of your studies at home, we can see how it goes, but it could be weeks before you're cleared to go back to school."

Alison's shoulders drooped. "I guess LaGuardia might not happen, then." On top of everything else that had been taken away from her, now she might lose out on going to the famous fine arts school, too. "If I fall too far behind to finish this school year, there's no way they'll let me in."

"Let's cross that bridge when we get to it, ok, kiddo?" Caroline squeezed Alison's shoulder gently and led the way to the door.

Possibly missing out on LaGuardia made her eyes well up again, but Alison wasn't sorry she didn't have to go back to the Sacred Heart Academy for Girls right away. Some of her classmates had dropped by to visit while she was in the hospital, but she wasn't as close to them as she had been to her best friend, Heather, and their attempts at conversation had been awkward. Things just hadn't been the same since Heather had moved away the summer before, and now Alison had even less in common with her classmates. Sure, lots of them had parents who were divorced, but she was the only orphan she knew.

As far as Alison was concerned, she'd be happy to finish the school year from home, without ever stepping foot back inside Sacred Heart.

Caroline noticed Alison's last, lingering glance around the room and sensed that she needed a moment with her thoughts. "I'll go make sure the paperwork is all sorted out," she offered, though Alison knew she had already completed it.

Alison sighed and prepared to follow, but stopped when she saw a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head to follow it, but there was nothing there but a small sink in the corner, with a mirror above it. She stepped closer to study herself in the mirror.

This is what an orphan looks like, she thought dismally. Then she frowned at herself. Get it together, Clarke. Aunt Caroline's right, you have to at least try to move on. Mom and Dad would want you to be happy.

Alison stared deep into her reflection's dark blue eyes. Again, she thought she saw a flicker of movement and she jerked her head back. Her heart pounded. Just for a second, she'd seen it again—the toothy grin and green cat eyes she'd imagined right before the accident. This time, she had the distinct impression it was grinning at her approvingly, pleased with her bravado.

Pulse racing, she whirled to survey the empty room, but she was still alone. She forced herself to face her reflection again and gripped the edges of the sink until her hands stopped shaking.

Get it together, she ordered herself again. There's nothing there. And if you tell anyone you're seeing things, they won't let you out of here.

The only person staring back at her from the depths of the mirror was herself. But she still couldn't help feeling that somewhere, someone else was watching.