Page 72 of Don't Forget Me
Elizabeth swallowed, her throat unbearably dry. Her mouth opened, but she couldn’t get another word past her cracked lips.
Taking pity on her, Dr. McCoy reached for the white cup of water and held it to her lips. “Slowly.”
She choked down as much as she could handle, wanting to protest when he pulled it away.
“I said slowly.” He gave her a kind smile.
“Doc,” she croaked.
He leaned down to hear her words.
All she could get out was a whispered, “Cancer.”
His lips drew tight. “We did think it came back, Liz. There were some abnormal scans after you were brought into the ER. But it ended up being fluid buildup due to your accident.” He smiled again. “You’re still cancer free.”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened, and a tear escaped the corner of one before more followed. Still cancer free. She’d been so sure, so ready to give up that hope.
Another young doctor walked in, kindness etched into every feature. “There she is.”
“Liz.” Doctor McCoy gestured to the new one. “This is Doctor Stephens.”
The name sent a jolt through her.
He went on. “He’s been the neurologist on your case.”
Dr. Stephens looked at the monitor next to the bed and took down some notes. “Your father caught me on his way out and said you were speaking. We’re so happy to have you back with us.”
“What…”
“From what we can tell, you lost control of your car and crashed. Lucky for you, no substances were found in your system, and your injuries were not as bad as they could have been. A few broken ribs, possibly from the CPR the EMTs performed at the scene. You fractured your right tibia.”
“Tibia?” Her voice grew stronger.
Dr. McCoy answered her. “Your arm has a fracture.”
She looked down at the cast wedged between her hip and the bedrail.
Dr. Stephens nodded. “We’re more worried about neurological damage, but hopefully we’ll get you on track for a full recovery.” He nodded to Dr. McCoy.
Dr. McCoy met her gaze. “I’m going to get a nurse in here, and we have a number of tests for you. Is that okay?”
Liz nodded as a throbbing pain intensified in her head. She’d never imagined coming home would hurt so much.
Every time she closed her eyes, Liz wondered if she’d be taken back to the last place she’d felt whole. That was the point of the lake house, right? It was the place both she and Nick had been happy.
Yet, now, when she slid her lids shut, all she saw was blackness.
Her tests showed no cognitive issues, and she was thankful for that at least.
Over the last few days, there’d been a steady stream of visitors, and she appreciated each of them. Evelyn and Owen cried each time they had to leave her, and her dad had to assure them their mom would still be there when they returned.
It broke her part, but not as much as the whispered conversation between Booker and Dr. McCoy.
It hurt to speak, and she’d used her words sparingly, only asking after Nick that one time, waiting until she was stronger to try to get to him.
“You really think we should tell her?” Booker whispered.
Dr. McCoy ran a hand through his hair, looking every bit as young as he was when his eyes shifted back to her. They didn’t know she was awake at this hour, and the room was dark.
