Page 30 of Midnight Between Us
“Are you okay?”
The voice pulls me back.It’s not hers.The pews vanish.The light fades.And I’m back—sweat-soaked, breath shallow, wishing I could remain in a place that never existed.
Dr.Aldridge is closer now, eyes narrowing with quiet concern.My chest is still heaving, and my lungs are slow to remember how to breathe here.I blink.It takes too long to remember where I am.
“Yeah,” I rasp.“Still here.”
His brow creases.“What just happened?You were out for a couple of minutes.”
“I saw her again.”I gasp, trying to recover my breath, it’s as if I just ran fast so the church wouldn’t swallow me as it was falling apart.
He doesn’t write that down.Just nods.Thoughtful.Careful.Like if he moves too fast, I’ll vanish again.
“Can you tell me more?”
I let the words fall out, thick and low.“A church.A confession without the God part.She knew I’d leave.I called her name, but she wouldn’t stop.The place began to fall apart.”
“Her name?”
I close my eyes.It rises without hesitation.“Simone.”
I know I didn’t hear it recently.No one said it to me.It didn’t come from a nurse or a note or a whisper near my bed.It came from me—from somewhere that still remembers what mattered.
Dr.Aldridge rises to his feet, something softer crossing his face.“That’s a good sign.Memory retrieval often begins with emotional links.A voice.A flash of a moment.It’s how the rest starts to come back.”
I nod faintly.Not because I fully understand but because I need to believe him.
“Try to rest,” he says gently.“This is progress.I’ll let your attending know you’re stable enough to continue recovery from home.”
My brain snags on the word home.What home?I don’t remember having one.Is he talking about here?Her?
The words barely land before he turns to leave.The door clicks softly behind him.I stare back up at the ceiling.Same cracks.Same pale cross above the bed.
But something feels different now.
My body still aches.My memory’s a tangle of smoke and fractured images.
But her name ...that’s real.
And for the first time since waking up, it feels like something in this room actually belongs to me.
ChapterNine
Simone
I know the steps.
Check the vitals.Review the chart.Sign the discharge papers.Smile like it doesn’t feel like peeling off my skin.But nothing about this feels normal because once he’s discharged, he’s going home—with me.I’m the one who’ll be taking care of him and I don’t have the bandwidth to deal with that.Not at all.
Honestly, I was bracing for worse.Darren Russell-Aldridge was supposed to say something reasonable like, “Keep him here for a year—until he remembers who the hell he is,” or maybe even, “Let’s transfer him to witness protection and scrub his brain entirely.”
Instead, what did Darren say?“He’s fine.He can go home.”
Which would be fine if home didn’t mean my house.
My house.
“Are you absolutely sure he shouldn’t stay longer?”I ask, again.My tone’s clipped, but not enough to hide the undertone.“Maybe observe him another seventy-two?—”
