Dinner on Friday

38. Carla

FINDING THE LIGHT

If stares could killed, Miranda would have been obliterated and turned into stardust.

"Treatment? I don't even know what I'm being treated for. You didn't even tell me what was wrong with me. Why does my left side feel like a tooth with a root canal?"

Miranda pretended to be busy with my chart. "Dr. Sandoval will be here shortly to discuss the results and prognosis with you."

"I don't care about any of that. I need to see my husband."

"You can't leave just yet, Mrs. Caneos."

Oh, what the hell. "Why was he arrested?"

"I'm not certain, but I heard it had something to do with administering a harmful substance with murderous intent."

I tried to laugh but ended up sounding like a wounded animal. "They think he poisoned me? What the hell? He saved my life!"

"If that's the case, he should be back here in no time. Right now, we need to focus on you and your well-being. The poison did quite a number on you."

"Aren't you a chirpy one?" I didn't know what it was, but this whole situation was calling to the grumpy child in me. "What part of I need to see my husband don't you understand? I feel sick without him."

"No, that's the poison."

I ripped the sheets off me, and then using my good side, rolled out of bed. My right leg hit the floor too fast, causing my knees to buckle under the unanticipated weight of my dead limbs.

Shockingly, I landed on the hard floor with an 'oomph.' My chin struck the tile and my jaw shook on impact. Whatever IV fluid they had attached to my arm was painfully ripped out.

Miranda was upon me within seconds, fussing and clucking like a mother hen. I motioned for her to stay away as tears ran down my face.

"I need to see my husband," I choked out. "Please."

"We can talk about that when you're back in bed."

"No."

"You will feel a lot better back in bed, I promise."

"No."

"Mrs. Caneos, I cannot leave you on the floor," Miranda said in a tone reserved for talking to children. "Let me help you."

"Can you take me to my husband?"

"I'm afraid that's not possible."

"In that case, I'm afraid you cannot help me."

We stared at each other for a long time. Miranda was a redhead with a round face and green eyes. In another setting, she and I would get along fine.

The door to the room slid open and Dr. Sandoval walked in, seemingly followed by two interns.

His stern gaze scanned my half-naked fallen body before meeting Miranda's. "Why is the patient on the floor?"

Miranda blinked several times before answering. "She fell."

"I see. Next time, consider putting the barrier up when the patient is half paralyzed."

"Yes, Doctor Sandoval."

The doctor approached me, his shadow falling over my face. Before I could protest, he scooped me up and laid me down gently on the bed.

"Where does it hurt?"

I pointed at my chin.

"I see." He nudged my face up by touching the side of my jaw. His clever eyes inspected the sightly swollen flesh for a long time, but it was the way he scanned my face afterward that made me squirm uncomfortably. "Small bruise. Not enough to cause those tears. What's up?"