wrote something else, as if noting that I was asking about the notes she was taking. I didn’t like it, and the panic started to rise again. It felt like it was going to spill out of me and cover the walls and the floors and the ceilings of this sterile, white room. My fingers twitched and I felt like I wanted to grab a hold of something, but didn’t know what.
“Why don’t I know my name?” My voice shook.
The doctor reached out and put a hand on my arm. “It’s common to experience some amnesia after a head injury.”
I reached up and touched my head. A big plaster covered my forehead. “What happened?”
“You were in an elevator accident. Do you remember any of that?”
“No. I . . . no!” My heart started to beat faster in my chest and a machine next to me beeped wildly.
“Try to relax. This is probably temporary; your memory should come back soon. The important thing is that we did a CT scan and an X-ray and everything is normal. No brain bleeds, no swelling, no injury. Other than the superficial cut on your forehead, which has been stitched up, some bruising on your arms and legs, and some grazes, you are okay. Your spinal fusion is also intact.”
“My what?”
“When we did your X-ray we saw that some of your vertebrae had been fused, and it revealed that you also had a plate and pins in your shoulder. But there’s nothing to worry about there either.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that at some stage in your life you had surgery to repair a broken back and shoulder. You have no recollection of that?”
I shook my head and suddenly tears welled up in my eyes. I was feeling an emotion that I couldn’t quite name and connect to, and yet it was strong. So strong that it was strangling my throat from the inside.
“I’ll give you something to help you relax.” She leaned in and pushed a syringe into my IV and a warm feeling washed over me.
“Hello, darhling.” Another familiar face came in. It was Ntethelelo, the cheerful nurse who’d attended to me earlier. “How are you feeling?” She walked up to my bed and fluffed my pillow, repositioning my head on it. “This is five-star accommodation here. We want everyone to be as comfortable as possible.”
“Thanks,” I said, looking up at her.
“I’ll be back later. You’re in good hands,” the doctor said, and then left.
“Excellent hands,” Ntethelelo whispered to me. “Right,” she chirped, pulling a machine closer. “Time to take your blood pressure and your oxygen saturation.” She attached a cuff to my arm and a device to my finger and began taking the readings. I glanced over at the window. I was clearly on a higher floor than before.
“One hundred per cent!” she declared when she was done. “I told you you were going to be alright.”
Someone else then came in and put a tray of food on my table. I looked at it and my stomach lurched. I pushed the table away from me, and Ntethelelo glanced down at the food as if she were taking a mental note of it.
“Right, just press the button if you need me.” She pointed to a button within my reach. “And try and get some rest.”
“Wait,” I called after her. “Noah—do you know if he’s here?”
“Sorry, who?”
“Noah, the paramedic who brought me here, and then before we went into the elevator, he was there with me.”
“Oh, Noah. He brought you in, but I didn’t see him before we went to X-ray.”
“You did, he came up and helped me. Told me to take deep breaths and relax.”
She looked at me sympathetically. “That was me, darling. I was the one who told you to breathe.”
“No, it was him. I saw him in the corridor. He was on his phone and then he was by my side and he took my hand and, and . . .” I stopped talking and swallowed. Had I imagined him? Had I imagined seeing him in the corridor? Hearing him? What else had I imagined about him?
“It was just me there,” Ntethelelo said, with a smile I couldn’t interpret. “Get some rest.” And then she turned, walked out of the room, closed the door behind her, and I was alone, again.
CHAPTER 4
I was surprised to find two policemen in my room when I woke up. A doctor with long red hair who I’d never seen before was also there. I shot