There’s someone here to see you.”
The soothing voice was familiar, although she couldn’t quite say why. Maybe she’d heard it this morning, or during the night, or—
Wait, was it morning?
Well, there seemed to be light somewhere, yes. And the light seemed familiar, as well, which must mean she was at home in—
In—
In bed, right, but why didn’t this feel like her bed? Her bed shouldn’t hurt, yet this one felt strangely painful. Like she’d been sleeping wrong, with her arm twisted backward and something burning her side. “Anne, would you like to visit with your brother-in-law today?”
The question sounded like it was meant for her, but did that mean she was Anne? The name seemed familiar, somehow, even more than the cajoling voice and the light creeping into her eyes….
“He’s been coming every day to see how you’re doing, and he keeps saying you’re not to worry about a thing—”
“Okay,” she murmured. Or at least she meant to say that, but her voice didn’t sound quite right. Still, it must have gotten through to the woman who was speaking, because she gave a delighted cry.
“You’re awake! Let me run tell Dr. Sibley. Now, you don’t have to see anyone until you’re ready, but I know your brother-in-law would be thrilled if you’re feeling up to it.”
“Okay,” she said again, and this time it sounded clearer—even though she still couldn’t quite sit up. “What… Uh, what…” She couldn’t quite think of what she wanted to ask, but something didn’t feel right.
“You’re in the hospital, sweetie. You’ve been here for eight days, and we were starting to get a little worried about you, but now you’re going to be just fine.”
The hospital? Had they taken her tonsils out? She remembered the hospital, with her sister in the next bed—oh, and they were laughing about something!—but that seemed like a long time ago. Eight days?
No, more than that.
“I’m going to send him in,” the woman announced, helping her to a sitting position that somehow rattled a tube in her arm. “You take all the time you want to get comfortable, and he’s certainly not going to expect any conversation, but if Dr. Sibley is on rounds you might as well have some company with you.”
“Okay.” She was getting pretty good at that one word, and it seemed to thrill the nurse—a nurse, right? Wearing a white uniform in a hospital, she had to be a nurse. And the way she backed out of the room, with a watchful eye all the way to the door, rang with the comfort of familiarity.
Even if everything else was mixed up right now, at least she could still recognize a nurse.
She didn’t recognize the man who came in next, though. Not a doctor, because he wore what she thought of as “lawyer” clothes—a conservative white shirt and gray suit, but with his tie and shirt collar loosened.
And he also wore a look of intense relief.
“Anne,” he greeted her, reaching for both her hands and giving them a surprisingly gentle squeeze. Maybe because of that metal thing bracing her arm, which she didn’t remember from the tonsil hospital. “You’re gonna be okay. Dr. Sibley said another few days here, maybe six weeks of physical therapy, and you’ll be good as new.”
He seemed so pleased about that, it must be good news. “Good,” she managed to answer. But it didn’t explain who this man was. “Um…are you the doctor?”
He reacted with a jolt of shock as he moved a plastic chair closer to her bedside, then she saw his startled expression replaced by something more careful. More calm.
“I’m Rafe Montoya,” he said, and hesitated. As if he was waiting for her to recognize the name. “Your sister’s husband.”
Her sister had a husband? She hadn’t remembered that from the tonsil hospital, either, but if her sister was married they must have left childhood behind them a long time ago. “Where is she?”
Even though the man retained that same relaxed demeanor, she saw a flash of pain in his eyes before he sat down and met her gaze again. “She isn’t here. You…you were pretty badly hurt.”
“I thought so,” she admitted, shifting away from whatever was pressing against her side. “I don’t feel right.”
He nodded, then reached across her to move something at the edge of her bed—which left her feeling a little more comfortable. “You and Beth,” he said slowly, “were in a train wreck.”
“Beth?” That name felt familiar, and from the way he spoke it, she could tell it belonged to someone he loved. “My sister?”
“Yeah. Anne, I’m sorry.” The nurse had called her that, too, which meant she must be Anne. And the combination of those names seemed to resonate within her, as if Anne and Beth belonged together. “I didn’t realize you— Everything’s kind of a blank, huh?”
Pretty much, but she hated to see this man so worried. Especially when he had his wife to worry about…although Beth must be all right by now, because otherwise her husband wouldn’t be here.
“No,” she assured him, “I remember having our tonsils out.” For some reason that memory was the clearest—maybe because this hospital smelled the same as that other one—but there were other images floating in her mind, as well. Playing with a dog, braiding each other’s hair, cutting out snowflakes… “Only it was a long time ago.”
“Yeah, I guess it was.” He gazed at her for a moment, as if the sight of her face offered some curious mixture of nostalgia and regret, then gave her an apologetic smile. “Look, maybe you just need to concentrate on getting some rest. There’s a lot of people praying for you.”
“Really?” For some reason, she couldn’t think of anyone who’d do that except her sister, who ought to be arriving any minute…because somehow she had the feeling there was no other family in her life. No parents, no grandparents, no one but her sister.
And this man. Rafe.
Her sister’s husband.
“Yeah, well, Jake Roth—the guy who pulled you off the train?” Rafe seemed to think that phrase might trigger a memory, but again nothing came to mind. “He and his wife have been calling. And everybody in Chicago.”
Chicago. That sounded vaguely familiar, and she had an impression of a city skyline. Maybe on a calendar, or a postcard. “Is that here?”
“No, right now you’re in Tucson.” He closed his eyes for a moment, then continued, “That’s where Beth and I lived…uh, live.” But the falter in his voice spoke more vividly than his show of calm, and she knew there was something terribly wrong. “You and Beth were on vacation, and—”
“Is she okay?”
He hesitated, and she felt a sinking sensation inside her even before he met her gaze and said quietly, “Beth is…she’s gone.”
Gone? As in—
She
