Page 38 of Unwell
I tore at my arm until long red streaks marked my skin. For a moment the pain cut through the din with a moment of euphoria. Until the chamber stole my sobs and doubled them back. Cries circling me like vultures.
My voice was no longer my own, taken by the chamber. My body wasn’t mine either, just an emptiness for Elijah to fill.
I rocked until the world narrowed to two bloody footprints on the floor. Something to focus on.
And then hands came for me.
Strong and urgent, dragging me from the torrent of noise.
The iron door slammed behind me as Nancy pulled me out the Chamber.
Quiet enveloped me. Almost. The mocking jeers clung like cobwebs, fuzzing my head.
‘Shh, I’ve got you,’ Nurse Nancy whispered. I couldn’t decide if I was imagining her voice amongst all the others. Did I dare believe she came for me?
Nancy gathered me against her, wrapping me in her warmth. Rocking me the way I’d tried to rock myself. I buried my face in her starched uniform and sobbed until my breath shuddered.
Her hand stroked down my back in slow, delicate strokes.
Then lower.
Over the curve of my hip…
Settling against my bump.
She held me like she could shield the baby and me from Wellard.
And the whispers died.
For a moment, the world quieted enough that it felt safe.
TWENTY-THREE
NANCY
Isettled Ginny back into her bed and smoothed the scratchy blanket over her trembling frame. She’d barely made it through being washed down and patched back up, the cuts and grazes she sustained having marked her lovely skin. She twitched and murmured about the Echo Chamber, broken whimpers on her lips. Her tufted hair lay lank against her temples. It was the colour of wet straw with sweat. She needed a bath, but a brief scrub down had to suffice.
Her eyes darted behind me, hunting the shadows for people who weren’t there.
‘Elijah,’ she whispered under her breath.
I brushed her hair back, gently tucking it as best I could behind her ear. ‘Shh, love. You’re safe now.’
The door creaked open behind us.
Robert leaned in the doorway with his arms folded, his mouth a picture of contempt. The way he looked over Ginny was full of distaste, as if she were a pile of rotting food rather than a hurt patient.
‘He’s here,’ Ginny said while trying to raise her very pregnant self to sit. Her eyes snagged on the corner of the room. The empty corner.
My heart jumped. ‘Who, Ginny?’
‘Elijah. He’s here.’
Robert snorted. ‘Christ. She’s gone, Nancy. You’re wasting your time.’
He shook his head at the two of us before backing out of the room, his boots echoing as he left us there.
I stayed.
