Dr Meera Saravana has been on the run for the last ten years due to a fatal misunderstanding. She ends up in New York, hoping that maybe this time everything will work out. But that's turning out to be impossible the more she gets involved with the...
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IVAN
The next few days were a haze of pain meds and sleep. Every time I woke up, there was a different person next to my bed. They'd always say something to me and then run out. The room changed too. At first, it was a stark white room with fluorescent lights. One time I woke up to Anya crying silently before she noticed that I was awake. Another time I saw Dimitri silently sitting in a chair and playing his violin for me. Most of the faces were a blur, I wasn't sure if I imagined them or if they were there.
At one point, when I felt like I was losing my mind, I saw dad. He was sitting next to me dressed in a black suit, smoking his pipe and just staring at me. Dad didn't say a word but his eyes said everything, I'd never seen them so sad before. Even as a ghost, he still looked at me the same way.
The face I remember the most was of the woman. I didn't know her name or who she was. At that moment, I thought she was an angel sent down to take me to heaven. Even though she had a bit of blood staining the collar of her lab coat, I couldn't shake the feeling of relief I felt when she wrapped her arm around me. I remember her calling my name in a gentle tone between the flashes of light and the ringing in my ear. Her hands were always gentle, warm, and cautious. I saw her several times after the first time. Sometimes she talked to me and I answer back in grunts of pain, other times she was next to my bed, writing something down on her clipboard. Long dark hair, warm brown eyes, and a soft smile. She looked concerned, gnawing at her bottom lip or sighing in frustration.
Or maybe that was just the same fluorescent lights in the room and the mess my brain had become. Everything felt like I was wading through the snow in a blizzard, hazy and slow. I couldn't grasp what was real or not.
I woke up again, slowly coming through the fog. My head felt as if someone had unscrewed it, shaken it up violently and placed it back on. I didn't know what time it was when I woke up. It was dark, the last rays of twilight caught onto the curtains. In total, I felt like absolute and utter shit. The pain came in waves. At first, it was a burning sensation and it suddenly progressed to a sharp tearing feeling. I let out a sound, trying to roll onto my side. The slightest movement of my arm felt like claws being dug into my flesh. I must've groaned too loudly because the door opened. Light spilt in from my room, illuminating my surroundings with a hazy glow.
I squinted at the feminine silhouette in the doorway.
"Anya?" I croaked out, narrowing my eyes. "Is...is that you?"
"Afraid not, Mr Farewell." The person came into view, standing next to my bed. "It's been an eventful few days but I'm glad that you're lucid."
I flinched away when she tried to touch me. She gave me a concerned look, her brown eyes scanning me over. I felt exposed in a thin hospital gown and a thin, itchy blanket. "Sorry," She said, pulling her hands away and stuffing them in the pockets of her white coat. "How are you feeling, Mr Farewell."
