Page 97 of Twice as Forbidden

“Okay, everyone, let’s take a step back.” A man’s voice. I can’t make out his face. “Hey, Georgia. I’m Dr. Phillips. We’ve been waiting for you to wake up.”

“Wake up from what? Where am I?”

“You’re at Chicago General Hospital. You were in a pretty bad accident. I know it’s hard, but I’m going to ask you to try to lie still so I can do some neuro tests. Can you do that?”

“My head. It hurts so bad. The beeping—make it stop.”

“I can do that.” He leans over and adjusts the machine, and I let out a cry of relief.

I glance back at my sister, her face buried in my mom’s shoulder, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her sobs shake her small frame, and the sight sends a pang of panic through my chest. Why does Mom look so frail? My gaze shifts, and I spot Noah standing behind them. His eyes are red, his face streaked with tears.

Then I catch movement in the doorway. Jackson’s eyes spear into mine, blazing with a mix of dominance and desperation. He looks utterly shattered.

“What did I do?”

“You didn’t do anything, baby girl.” She strokes my hair back, and the tears come without warning. The pain intensifies, and the tears fall harder.

“Georgia, I’m gonna need you to take a breath, okay?” That’s impossible. Each breath catches in my throat, and I choke on my own sobs.

“What are you giving her?” That comes from Noah.

“Morphine to help her relax. She’s becoming agitated, and this upset is not good for her recovery.”

I cry out. “Mom, is this a dream? Is this a bad dream?”

Tears fall down her pale face. “No, baby. I need you to close your eyes and get some rest. We’ll be here when you wake up, I promise you.”

“I don’t want to go back to sleep. Mom, please don’t make me. I don’t understand what’s... happening…”

The buzzing gradually fades, and my body starts to go numb. I close my eyes, trying to take a breath, and sink deeper into the darkness.

The sound of the door slamming wakes me. My room is dark except for the sliver of light creeping beneath my door. I lean over to glance at the clock on my nightstand. It’s almost three in the morning.

Loud voices echo from the hallway. Bill and Mom. She’s crying. I can’t make out what they’re arguing about, but I can tell he’s drunk. I pull my covers tighter over me, hoping the barrier will drown out their voices.

“Go back to sleep, Georgia,” I coo to myself, but my thoughts turn to Lettie.

“Bill, no. She’s sleeping. Leave her alone.”

“I told her not to leave her bike in the driveway.”

“I’m begging, please—”

The remainder of her plea is cut short by the sharp crack of his hand slapping her face. I hide deeper under my covers, flinching when my door is thrust open.

“Bill, please leave her alone.”

“Stay outta this.”

I curl into myself, praying he listens, when my comforter is ripped from my body, and he fists my ponytail. I cry out in pain as I’m yanked upright by my hair.

“What did I tell you about that bike?”

“Let me go! You’re hurting me.”

“That’s the least of your worries, you little brat. I told you to put that bike away, but you didn’t and I just ran it over.”

I put it away, but Lettie asked if she could ride my bike earlier. I had said yes, trusting her when she promised to return it to the garage. But I keep that to myself. I can’t risk him going after her.

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