Found at Sea - By Anne Marie Duquette Page 0,51

searched, Aurora insisted on seeing Dorian, but as prisoners in the infirmary were allowed only one same-sex visitor, Jordan and Aurora split up. Jordan would wait for her while visiting with Tanya. Aurora headed to the infirmary alone. The germicides and alcohol couldn’t mask the smell of vomit, diarrhea and despair.

“Dorian.” Her sister’s appearance frightened Aurora so much she actually gasped. Dorian’s skin was almost translucently pale, except for the dark purple bruises around her IV needle and under her eyes.

Heavy eyelids blinked and opened at the sound of her name. “Aurora? Is that you?”

“It’s me, sis. It’s visiting hours.” Aurora carefully sat on the edge of the bed and reached for her sister’s hand.

“You’d better not stay long. I don’t want you to catch whatever I have.” Dorian’s voice was a mere whisper.

Aurora reined in her emotions tightly and forced herself to speak calmly. “You know me—healthy as a horse. I rarely catch anything. How are you feeling?”

“Like the Bride of Frankenstein. I’m sure I must look it.” She raised her hand to her hair. To Aurora’s horror, a large clump of it fell off at Dorian’s touch, joining other small clumps on the white pillowcase.

“What are the doctors doing for you?” Aurora demanded. “What kind of medicine are you on? You have seen a doctor, right?”

“For all the good it’s done.” Dorian slowly managed the words. “He says this is some new Asian flu—lasts three, four weeks. Other than fluids and antibiotics for...secondary infections like bronchitis...there’s nothing to do but wait it out.”

“And you’ve been sick...?”

“Almost two weeks. Feels like forever.”

“You should be in a hospital,” Aurora said, looking around the room at the sick women filling the beds. To Aurora’s untrained eye, Dorian seemed the worst of the bunch. “A real hospital.”

“I wish. I only hope Tanya doesn’t catch this. She should be home. We should all be home.” Dorian’s eyes fluttered closed. “I’m tired. I feel terrible.”

Aurora stroked her sister’s forehead. “I know, sweetheart. I brought you some canned soups and bouillon cubes, plus crackers and lozenges. Olivia has them. What else can I do to help?”

Dorian spoke, her eyes still closed. “I want you to be a mother to my daughter. Take care of Tanya for me.”

“Don’t be silly,” Aurora said sharply, hating the sudden turn the conversation had taken. “She doesn’t need me. She has you.”

This time Dorian opened her eyes. “Just in case... Promise me, Rory. Tanya needs you. Gerald doesn’t understand her.... I don’t understand her. She never listens to us.” Tears rolled down Dorian’s cheeks. “Promise me. I know we’ve had our problems, but I wouldn’t ask anyone else other than you.”

Aurora’s fingers tightened on her sister’s. “I won’t promise to be her mother,” she whispered. “But I promise to take care of her—and you. Hang on, Dori. I’ll get you out of here. I’m doing my best.”

“I know. Just...take care of Tanya. Promise,” she repeated.

“I promise. Now, close your eyes and try to rest.”

Aurora sat with Dorian until her sister’s fingers relaxed within hers, telling Aurora she finally slept. One of the clinic’s two overworked nurses came by, fussing with Dorian’s covers and offering sympathy. Aurora knew sympathy wouldn’t help. She bent to kiss her sleeping sister’s forehead and went to rejoin Tanya.

* * *

JORDAN WAITED with Tanya in front of the young girl’s cell. Olivia also waited; the guard stayed at a polite distance to allow privacy. Tanya looked as if she’d been crying. Olivia didn’t wear her usual stoic expression and she flashed Aurora a sympathetic glance as she passed.

“How’s your sister?” Jordan asked.

“Not good,” Aurora replied bleakly. “She thinks she’s dying. I think she’s right.” She couldn’t go on, and Jordan took her hand.

“I told you, she’s really sick,” Tanya hissed. “We have to get her out. I know a way. I told him.” Tanya jerked her chin toward Jordan.

Aurora nodded, still unable to speak.

“We’ll talk about it outside,” Jordan said. “Tanya, do nothing until you hear from us.”

“Make it fast,” Tanya replied harshly. “We’re running out of time.” Tanya turned away from both of them, but not before she’d reached through the bars and grabbed Aurora’s hand. “Hurry back, Rory. For Mom’s sake.”

Back outside, the same dismal scene awaited them as before—with one exception. The small, nameless boy stood by the truck and, once again, clung barnacle-like to Roberto’s leg.

“He refuses to stay home, the little leech. How am I supposed to work with this niño around?” He watched as Aurora lifted the child into her