Downfall by S.D. Wasley

  Chapter 19: Conversion

  Dozing.

  I woke to whiteness so bright it hurt my eyes. I shut them again and tried fuzzily to work out where I was. I was lying down but couldn’t move. There was a repetitive beeping sound.

  Further dozing.

  I woke and tried again. The reason I couldn’t move, I now discovered, was that my body was groggy and heavy, as though I’d run a marathon through mud. Vague, nonsensical ideas skittered through my mind: an eagle ... red embers ... a shotgun. None of it made any sense. But something else followed. A memory of being folded into an embrace as soft and warm as a bird’s wing, the pain falling away, and the sight of a beautiful face haloed by moonlight.

  I opened my eyes and there was the beautiful face, right next to me. Cain had his eyes on his phone. I dared not move a muscle in case I disturbed him; instead, I drank in the sight. His face was still alight, radiating a gentle glow that extended out past his hair in a haze of warmth. I inhaled silently. Warm summer’s day. My breath came out as a contented sigh and Cain looked up at me at last.

  “Francesca,” he said with a smile.

  I smiled back. Something nagged at me in the back of my mind, some thought I didn’t want to acknowledge. But for now I just basked in his light.

  “Are you in pain?” he asked.

  I thought about it. Was this heaviness in my body pain? I tried to shift myself upwards slightly on my pillow and the question was answered. The dull ache throughout me was eclipsed by a stabbing pain in my shoulder and arm. I screwed up my face and sucked in air. Cain swiftly reached up to lay his hand on mine. The pain ebbed and I looked down at my arm, bandaged, strapped and inert.

  “Ohhh ...” I remembered everything in a jumble. “That man shot me.”

  A nurse came in and gave me a cheerful smile. “Hello, Francesca,” she said. “Nice to have you back with us. I’m Karen.”

  “Hi,” I said, but weariness washed over me. I just wanted to sleep again. My throat ached and Karen seemed to know this without asking. She helped me sip water from a miniscule paper cup.

  “Did he see you?” Cain asked. “The guy who shot you?”

  “I don’t think so,” I murmured, my eyelids drooping. “He thought I was someone else.” I laughed but it came out like a weak gurgle. “Sorry,” I slurred. “So tired.”

  “You lost a lot of blood,” the nurse told me.

  “You nearly died,” Cain said, his voice strange and tight.

  “Ah,” was all I could manage in reply. “My arm ...”

  “The doctor will come by to talk to you soon,” Karen said, “but your arm’s looking good. The surgeon was able to pin and stitch it all up quite nicely. It should function fine if you look after it properly.”

  “She’s asleep again,” Cain told her. I wasn’t yet, but I couldn’t move or respond, either.

  “It’s the pain medication,” she replied.

  “The police came by before,” he said. “They said they wanted to talk to her as soon as she woke up.”

  “Best to wait until she’s a bit more with it,” the nurse answered with a slight laugh. “They won’t get much sense out of her like this.” She paused. “Her family needs to be told she’s come to,” she told Cain. “I think her sister’s still in the hospital somewhere. Do you want to talk to the family or would you prefer we do it?”

  “Could you?” Cain asked. “I don’t really know them.”