The Year I Became Isabella Ande - Jessica Sorensen Page 0,45
the open wound.
“The stitches can wait until I talk to Grandma.” I hobble toward the apartment again, refusing to look down at the cut.
Cotton candy. Gummy worms. Licorice. I chant in my head, trying to stay calm.
“You’re going to end up with a scar if you don’t take care of it,” Indigo points out, stopping by the front door to light up.
“I’ll take care of it.” I open the apartment door and stumble into Grandma Stephy’s living room.
She’s sitting on the couch, surrounded by tons of used Kleenexes, and her head is in her hands. When I enter, she quickly looks up, blinking her puffy eyes.
“Oh, my God, I’m so sorry.” She stands up and winds around the coffee table toward me. “I think I messed up.”
“Indigo says you got a name. Please tell me that’s true.” I hunch over and place my hand on my knee.
Now that the adrenaline rush is fading, the pain is becoming way more knock-me-on-my-ass intense and the vomit burning at the back of my throat is harder to keep down.
“He accidentally let it slip out when he was yelling at me,” she says with a cautious edge to her voice. “But I’m not even sure he realized he said it.”
Unable to stand any longer, I sink down on the floor and straighten my knee. “What happened, anyway? Why was he even here? I thought we were going to do this together?” I blink a few times as everything around me spins.
“Honey, what did you do to your leg?” She kneels down on the carpet beside me to examine the cut on my knee. “My word, Isa. This looks really, really bad.”
“I jumped out of the car and fell.” I slump back, resting my head against the door. “Please, Grandma Stephy, just tell me her name.” Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe through the pain.
“Her name is Bella,” my grandma says right before I pass out.
When my eyelids flutter open, my eyes are instantly assaulted by florescent light, the smell of cleaner attacks my nostrils, and my knee feels like a zombie took a bite out of it.
“Where the hell am I?” I mutter as I sit up.
“Easy, Isa.” My grandma Stephy appears by my bedside, looking paler than normal. “We had to take you to the hospital.”
I take in the privacy curtain, the thin bed I’m lying in, and Indigo sitting in a chair. “How’d I get . . .” I cup my head then my mouth sinks. “Oh . . .” The last few hours rush back to me.
Grandma Stephy pats my hand that’s resting on my stomach. “You’ve never been good with blood, but you worried me to death when you blacked out.”
I look down at my knee, which is now wrapped in a bandage—thank God. “Did I have to get stitches?”
“You did.” Grandma Stephy smoothes my hair from my forehead so she can look me in the eyes. “How are you feeling? About everything?”
“The leg hurts,” I admit. “And the thing with my mom . . . you said her name was Bella.” I smile at that. “I have to be named after her, right?”
“I guess so.” Grandma Stephy glances over her shoulder at Indigo. “Honey, would you mind going and getting me a soda from the vending machine?”
Indigo nods and Grandma Stephy waits until she ducks out from the curtain before she sits down on the edge of the bed. “Isa, your dad knows I told you about your mom. That’s why he came over to my house today.”
“But how did he find out? I didn’t say anything to him.”
“You didn’t have to. He said he knew from the moment you got back from your trip. He said you looked so much like her, and he just jumped to the conclusion that your change came from learning who your mom is.”
“I look like her?” I try not to act too giddy, because Grandma Stephy seems upset, but I can’t help it. I’m totally freakin’ excited.
“According to your dad, you do.” She dazes off into empty space. “I can’t believe how your father acted today. I mean, I always kind of knew he was a spoiled brat, but . . .” She looks at me. “Your grandpa used to spoil him all the time, because he was his only son. Everything Henry wanted, your grandpa gave him. I knew one day it would backfire, but the way he treated me,” she shakes her head, “I just can’t believe that man yelling at