Page 84 of Sloane

“No. And I couldn’t smell the letters either.”

“Oh.” She adjusted the box on her hip and said, “Yes, it’s normal. I’m glad you realized it so quickly. Can you taste anything?”

I took a bite of pizza and chewed thoughtfully.

“Yeah, but it tastes different. I guess I just chalked it up to being foreign food.”

“No. Without your sense of smell, your taste buds can only detect a few flavors.”

“Makes sense.”

I didn’t take another bite, and Lina said, “It’s probably going to affect your appetite. But even if you don’t feel like eating, it’s important that you do, otherwise I’ll have to put a feeding tube in you again.”

That was the last damn thing I wanted.

“Is this permanent?”

“Not usually. Most patients who’ve suffered burns like yours regain their sense of smell within a year after sustaining the injury.”

Great. Even comfort food wouldn’t work for me.

But then again, did I even deserve comfort food?

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Sloane

“Knock, knock!” Ryan’s voice echoed off the linoleum floor as he stood in the doorway of my hospital room.

I’d been dreading his visit ever since Dr. Warneke, assisted by Major Branson, convinced me to let him come. If Uncle Sam hadn’t agreed to pay for his trip, I wouldn’t have allowed him to spend his own money, but since the military agreed to transport him, I didn’t have a compelling argument why I didn’t want my friend to visit me.

I knew any reason I gave for not wanting him there would land me in the therapist’s office before the end of the day. And I’d been avoiding her like the plague.

But looking at him, in the flesh, I conceded, I was glad to see him.

“Hey! You made it!”

“I did,” he said as he stepped inside my room. I appreciated that he didn’t hesitate to come toward me as I struggled to sit up in bed.

“Any problems with the flight?”

“Not a one.” He patted my right shoulder. “How you feeling?”

“Like a hamburger that was left on the grill too long.”

“Ouch.” He looked me over from head to toe, then added, “Yeah, you look like it, too.”

That made me laugh out loud, which I discovered caused my cheeks to hurt. Apparently, I hadn’t smiled very wide since burning my face off.

That seemed fitting.

“Fuck you.”

I noticed the backpack slung over his shoulder when he pulled it off and set it in the chair behind him.

“Were you able to check into the hotel?”

“Yeah, they were really helpful and let me have my room early.”

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