The Divided

Chapter Twenty-Seven

I was cold.

I could hear the air conditioner blowing cool air into the room, along with the harsh sound of a steady beep. Slowly opening my eyes, I found myself in an uncomfortable hospital bed, covered in a thin sheet. Mason was sitting at the side of the bed, his hand entangled with mine.

His eyes met mine immediately. The dark-green orbs were filled with worry as they searched my own, but they weren't comforting. They weren't the eyes that I wanted to see—they weren't grey and brown heterochromia eyes. I pulled my hand out of his.

"How are you feeling?" he asked as I looked around the room, trying to figure out what was going on.

"Fine," my voice croaked. I cleared my throat. "I feel fine."

He nodded, exhaling a deep breath. "Do you know why you are here?"

The steady beep sounding in the room picked up its pace. "Something was wrong," I recalled. "I was throwing up. I had a seizure." Mason nodded and looked down as if he was remembering my seizure occurring. "What happened? What was wrong?" My heart rate continued to rise.

The teenage boy pushed a button that was on the side of the bed. "You need to calm down okay?" he said softly. "Breathe. You're okay now. I should let the doctor explain everything."

I swallowed. "Where are my parents?"

"They are out in the waiting room," he told me. "The doctor would only let one or two people in the room at one time."

I nodded and a second later, the doctor walked in. "Melody," he greeted. "I'm glad to see you awake."

I stared at him. "How long was I out?"

"A little over a week."

My eyes widened at his words and I almost choked on air. "What?" I promised Dean I would go over to the other side over a week ago. He was probably worried sick.

"You slipped into a coma after you seized."

I was confused and shocked beyond belief. "How is that possible?"

The doctor took a seat across the room and Mason stared at me, watching me closely. "What symptoms do you remember occurring?" he asked, not answering my question.

I thought about it. "Stomach pain, weakness, vomiting, a weird metallic taste in my mouth..." I trailed off.

He nodded as if he had expected me to say something along those lines. "You suffered from arsenic poisoning," he informed me.

I sat still and took in the words. "How?"

"After some tests, we found it mixed in the coffee you were given."

"My mother gave it to me," I told him. "Vincent had given it to her."

He nodded. "And Vincent got it from an unidentified man. We believe someone was trying to poison your mother."

I furrowed my eyebrows. That didn't make any sense. "Couldn't that coffee have ended up in anyone's hands?" I asked. "They were handed out after a meeting."

My doctor shook his head. "They were each made specifically to each person's request."

My mother wouldn't order coffee. She didn't like the taste of it. Nonetheless, I let the subject drop, knowing I wasn't going to get a real answer. "I can't believe this happened," I spoke instead.

Both boys nodded, agreeing. "You are lucky to survive," the doctor explained. "Had you drank any more of that coffee, I'd truly be worried for your life."