Hope

Chapter Thirty Eight

I open my eyes and am greeted by a sharp glare of light that causes me to immediately shut them again. I open them in a squint this time and I realize the lights of the mansion's infirmary.

My body screams in protest as I sit up, looking around. I am alone and this immediately causes my heart to beat in such a rapid pace I'm sure I'm not far from a cardiac arrest. There are five beds and I occupy one of them.

There's only one infirmary in the mansion, so where's Nick? He should be here with me. I swing my legs off the bed and stand up, ripping off the wire connected to the drip. The room sways for a moment and I grip the bed for support.

“Easy there,” a voice says and I jump. The Healer that served as Sophia's guard at the asylum, Fernando, appears suddenly. He smiles warmly at me, his white teeth contrasting with his dark skin. I am still to get used to his green eyes after finding out that he wore contact lenses when he guarded Sophia.

“Where's everyone? I'm sure I'm not the only one who needed medical attention after the war,” I say, straightening up.

He shakes his head. “You needed special attention. What with the stunt you pulled.”

I scowl in irritation. He's avoiding my question. “There's a possibility that we might have died if I hadn't. Where is everyone?”

His smile doesn't falter. “They are being treated.”

“How long have I been out?” I ask. My body feels like it has been asleep for weeks

“Four days,” Fernando says. He takes a clipboard from a desk and flips a few pages. “You suffered a severe fracture on your wrist- almost tore your ligament You have a second degree burn on your skin by your rib.” He looks up at me. “And you have a total of thirty-six stitches. Twelve on your thigh, fourteen on your arm and another twelve on your forehead.”

I roll up the sleeves of the loose shirt that I wore. My wrist has a cast on it. I've only worn it once when I broke my leg climbing a tree when I was eleven. I hated it and couldn't wait for it to be removed. I have a feeling that I'll be searching a chainsaw within a week.

I look back at him. “And Nick?” I almost choke out. I try to shut the terrifying thoughts out of my brain but they seep through. What if he didn't make it? Was Rioleo too late?

Fernando's smile grows. “He's fine. The arrow didn't touch any important organs... He's been asking for you,” he adds.

I sigh, almost dizzy with relief. “Can I go see him?”

“No. It's best if you stay here. I still-”

I push past him, making my way to the door. His yells of my name are cut off when I shut the door. I limp up the stairs to my door, pushing it open. My room that was assigned to me after the bombing looks the same. It feels as though it has been months rather than a week since I've been here. I'm too afraid to check on the third story's ruins. I'll most probably see Peter's terrified face before he was devoured by flames.

I pull of the loose clothing and replace it with jeans and a sweater. I rake a comb through my messy hair before pulling it up into a ponytail. There are many people I need to talk to and thank, so Nick will be the last person I'll talk to. There is a lot I need to say to him and I'm sure he has quiet a few things to say to me, too. I also need to talk to Harry- after everything that has happened I'm not sure where we stand.

My mother's words replay in my head. “Your heart already knows who it wants.” I wonder if I had dreamed her, or if my mind was playing tricks on me as I was at death's door.