The Wrong Sister

With great regret, I awoke again, facing the pain and sadness of my reality. How many more people would I lose? How many times would I awaken to this nightmare? My body ached, though not as intensely as before. I slowly looked around and realized I was in a private room. Light seeped through the blinds, but the world beyond remained obscured from my view. To my left, Lisa slept in a chair just a few feet from the bed. I studied her sleeping form, caught in a riptide between life and death. Death would be easier—no more fear for my loved ones. But my fondness for Lisa tugged at me, the same way Stacey had before. Stacey had been the thread that kept me alive. “Hey,” I cried. “Hey!” Lisa twitched, her eyes flying open. She sat up straight. “Hey, babe. How are you feeling?” “Stacey… I want Stacey.” Lisa rose from the chair and approached my bedside. “I know you do, sweetie. We’re all going to miss her terribly. She was wonderful. But you should know she didn’t suffer, and her funeral was beautiful.” My eyes bulged. “Funeral? What funeral? How long have I…?” “About two weeks,” she said gently. “No way. No fucking way!” “Shhh, calm down, sweetheart. I know you’re hurting…” “You don’t know shit! I saw him. He came at us in his truck, and that was just yesterday!” “I know it seems like that, but events like this distort perception of time.” Tears slipped past my blinking eyelids despite my efforts. Lisa squeezed my hand. I pulled away and pressed it to my forehead. “I don’t—I don’t understand. I’ve been here all this time? When I could have helped her?” “Sweetie, this wasn’t your fault. There really wasn’t anything you could have done.” “The guy… the one who hit us. I want him dead. I’m going to kill him.” “Shhh… he didn’t make it, Shaylin.” I paused, trying to process. “Was he drunk?” Lisa shook her head slowly, sadly. “He had a heart attack.” “Oh… my God,” I moaned, breaking into a fit of tears. Lisa bent down and wrapped her arms around my shoulders. I didn’t resist. She cooed softly, running a hand through my disheveled hair. A nurse hurried in, syringe in hand. Lisa stood her ground. “No. Please don’t sedate her just yet.” “Are you sure?” asked the nurse. “Yes, I’m sure,” Lisa said firmly. I felt a surge of gratitude. “Ok. Would you like a little more privacy, then?” “Yes, please,” I managed, softer this time. “Just press the button if you need me before lunch, which is in about ten minutes.” “We will,” said Lisa. She turned back to me. “I don’t think I could ever eat again, but I sure could use a drink.” “Oh, ok.” She poured a glass of water from a tray. I took it with my good arm, surprised by my own tremor. “You got it?” “I think so,” I said, swallowing carefully. Some dribbled down my chin and neck. “I didn’t realize how weak I was.” “You’ve been through a horrific ordeal,” Lisa said, dabbing at the drips. I felt self-conscious at her closeness but said nothing. “Please… tell me everything.” “Well,” Lisa began, “the accident happened on the first, and it’s now the twelfth. I came as soon as I was notified.” I noticed flowers on the table. “Who are those from?” “The sunflowers are from my parents, the purple and blue bouquet from Marcy, and the pink tulips are from me.” “They’re beautiful,” I whispered. “I know you knew my favorite color was pink, but how did you know my favorite flowers were tulips?” Lisa smiled faintly. “I didn’t, actually.” She sighed. “Anyway, the funeral was held, and I’ve packed up your stuff.” I jerked upright. “Burke! Oh my God, my ratty! Where is he?” “He’s fine. Don’t worry. The little guy’s warming up to me.” I exhaled in relief. “Noah and my sisters are packing up the house. It’s going to be sold since you weren’t married or anything.” I snorted. “I couldn’t stay there even if we were married. We had talked about a small, private ceremony months from now, but I… I can’t live a normal life like that. I’m not exactly… regular.” Lisa interjected. “That’s the last thing you need to worry about. All you need to do is get better. The rest will follow.” I shook my head, rubbing my eyes. “How are the others holding up? Poor Noah…” Lisa nodded. “He is. We all are. That’s why it’s important for you to just hang in there and—” “And what?” I interrupted. “Live on welfare if they even let me? Be a burden to someone who might die because I’m unlucky?” Lisa leaned on the guardrail. “So it’s unlucky that I won ten grand?” I blinked. “What?” “Just hours after I drove back home, the last time I saw you. How unlucky is that?” “But that’s after you got away and back to San Francisco.” Lisa laughed lightly and grazed my cheek. “It depends on how you look at it, honey.” Tears spilled, and she wiped them away with her finger. “Sweetie, I know you don’t like San Francisco, but I want you to let me take you home with me.” I looked into her face. “I like you a lot. Maybe too much. I always felt a sense of comfort with you, like I could really connect.” She smiled, seemingly flattered. “But I’m wired backward. I struggle with things that come easily to most. I have anxiety and can’t just grab a regular job to help out financially.” “No one’s asking, honey. I’d never expect anything from you but just you.” “I’d probably cry a lot.” “But you’d be alive… and with me.” Her words struck me—the way she said it, as if that’s how it should be. “Please?” she begged softly. I nodded. “I’ll help with housekeeping, laundry, languages, and computers. And maybe occasionally cook.” She smirked. “Well, that could give me a lot more free time.” Her humor almost made me smile. “How long until I can leave?” “You may be in an arm cast for weeks, but probably a few days more.” I chose my words carefully, trying not to cry again. “I don’t want to make promises I might not keep, but… I can give San Francisco a chance.” Her smile warmed. “Glad to hear it, Miss Howard. Some rules will apply, though.” “I don’t smoke or drink.” She laughed, then grew serious. “You’ll need to see a counselor regularly. You’ve been through so much; it would be a tremendous burden to anyone without guidance.” “I’ll see someone. But you’re more capable than you realize. I just don’t want to be any more of a burden than I already am.” “Don’t worry,” she said, reassuringly placing a hand on my shoulder. Damn, she was captivating. Her voice, her presence, her touch… Wait. What the hell was wrong with me? How could I be noticing this now, after all I’d just lost? And more importantly, did she know? It was like stepping outside naked and realizing someone else had already seen. Fate was sweeping me away—and so were my emotions.