Picking Up The Pieces

67. Memories

   I woke up to the sound of birds chirping outside my window in a queen-sized bed, the sheets blindingly white. The hospital gown I had been dressed in had been changed for a dark, short-sleeved robe while I was asleep. I took a deep breath and stretched, an action no longer as painful as it was before. There was a funny taste in my mouth, and I attempted to comb my ratty hair down with my fingers.

Hawkes grabbed at my throat, a murderous look in his eyes and a maniacal grin plastered on his face as I sputtered for air.

I jumped to my feet, my bare feet making contact with the cold black marbled floor, and grabbed at my throat, placing my hands in the exact position his had been when he had attempted to kill me. I came at it too fast, and I grimaced at the pain I felt when I pressed down what I presumed to be bruises. Carefully, I touched them again, feeling the swollen skin under my fingertips.

"I would advise against that." I turned quickly on my feet and lifted my hands in defense at the sound of the female voice, and the Wakandan girl raised an eyebrow at me. "I assure you, Miss Stark, I'm not here to hurt you. Now, sit yourself down before you do it to yourself." The girl's accent was thick but understandable. She wore a white halter top and had her dark hair braided up on her head. In her hands was a silver tray holding a bowl of light brown stew and silverware next to it, a data pad held underneath. "Alright, stay standing then."

I watched as she set the tray down on a desk across the room, and she paused for a moment as she looked at the view of the city from my window. "I think your room might have a better view than mine, I'm jealous," she joked, but I didn't respond back. This didn't stop her as she turned around and extended her now free hand to me, giving a smile that exposed her teeth. "My name is Shuri. It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Isabel Stark." I slowly extended my own hand and shook hers, which she gripped firmly. "I know the last week and a half has been very stressful. If it's alright with you, I was wondering if I could do a few extra tests to check your health? I'll explain every procedure before I do it so you have a chance to tell me if you'd like to skip or back out."

I took a shaky breath and nodded, and Shuri gestured for me to sit on the bed. She moved toward a dresser and opened one of its drawers, pulling out an inflatable cuff. "This is for blood pressure," she explained, pulling its velcro sides apart and carefully wrapping it around my upper arm. "I'm sure you've done this one before, but if not, there's a small amount of pressure." I stared at the wall while the Wakandan girl focused on her job, fixating my gaze on a painting of an African forest. Even from the distance, I could see how precise each stroke of the paintbrush was creating it, not a recreation of someone else's work. "You might start to feel a bit of pressure now."

Two of Hawkes's agents grabbed my arms and held them tightly, and I squirmed uncomfortably. One's fingernails felt like they were digging into my skin, perhaps purposely. The other focused on squeezing as hard as he could, breathing heavily in my ear. Hawkes was handed a syringe, the needle longer than average and glinting as the restaurant's light hit it. I was filled with fear.