Page 24 of Blazing Embers

There's something I need to remember… why can’t I remember? Miscarriage?

An image flickers through my mind. I hear a voice. A male voice. Not Ruslan’s.

Come on, Tara. You can do it.

A woman was there with a kind, soft, encouraging voice.

Yes, honey, one more big push. I’m going to count…

I’m right here, big sister, you can squeeze Sam’s hand as hard as you want to.

Sabrina?

The memory slides into another one—a hospital. There's blood. So much blood.

A male's voice, controlled but anxious, is talking to a nurse:My friend started cramping and then…

You say you’re how many months pregnant?The nurse is looking at me. There’s compassion in her eyes.

Just over five months.

Is that me? Am I?

My eyes move toward my stomach. My baby! Where’s my baby?

“Retained tissue, definitely. Prepare for emergency curettage…”

Confusion spirals through me. My thoughts and memories feel like a jumble of mixed puzzle pieces being tossed around in a tumble dryer, and I have no control over the fragmented pieces jarring my brain.

A little face with soft pink cheeks and blue eyes jumps into mind—Elena. I tried to grab it and hold onto it, but it slips away. No. I clench my eyes shut, trying to bring it back. Don’t go.

My eyes fly open—I had a baby girl. My arms twitch, desperate to fold inward over the space where she once grew. Where she lived. Where I still felt her, days after I gave her up.

A baby girl. My baby girl. She’s not a dream. She’s real.

The doctor's words echo through my head—miscarriage. And doubt once again grips me. Is she real or just a figment of my tormented mind? Something I made up to cover up heartache? The empty space left from a miscarriage.

I don’t know anymore. Why can’t I remember? What is happening to my brain?

My chest tightens. The beeping beside me quickens. My breath gets thin, like someone’s pressing on my lungs from the inside.

What’s going on? Why can’t I remember what’s real and what's not? Oh God… My throat constricts as images of blood pooling around me and excruciating pain rip through my stomach. No. No. She’s real. It has to be. I held her… didn’t I?

My hand spasms in Ruslan’s as a panic erupts from deep within my soul, and a secret… something I know I have to protect hides in the shadows of my foggy brain. Staying just out of reach. Tormenting me and pulling the strings of urgency within my subconscious

I try to scream as my chest grows heavier. My breath shallower and I feel like someone is strangling me. Cutting off my air supply. I try to suck in the air, but I can’t…

I try again to scream, but I have no voice. I hear the beeping noise increase. Getting faster. I try to suck in air again but it’s like my windpipe is blocked.

“Tara?”

I turn my head and try to tell him, but I can’t… my voice is stuck in my throat. Like the words I need to say are choking me, blocking my airways.

Ruslan jolts upright. His face leans close to mine, still groggy from sleep but instantly alert.

“Tara.Ptichka. You’re awake.”

His hand tightens over mine. I try to answer, but no words come out.

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