“She was just looking at us and following our voices fine,” Diego said.
“I believe you,” the doctor said. She straightened, crossing her arms in her white coat. “She’s choosing not to cooperate with me.”
My heart monitor went silent an instant, betraying me, and then blipped onward.
“Althea?” Madeline said. She looked mortified. “What is this? We need you to do what the doctor tells you.”
The doctor smiled. “There’s no need to scold. It’s actually a very promising sign of autonomous intelligence.” She swiveled closer to me once more. “Let me introduce myself again. I’m Dr. Huma Fallon, and you’re staying with us here at the Chimera Centre just south of Reykjavik, Iceland. You had an accident six months ago and fell into a coma. Your parents brought you here to me three weeks ago, and we were able to perform a surgery to help revive and restore your memories.” She reached to clasp my hand. “Can you squeeze my hand twice if you understand me?”
I glanced at Diego and Madeline, who both had their gazes locked on my hand. Behind them, the nurse was also watching gravely.
I squeezed twice.
Madeline let out a startled gasp.
The doctor patted my hand. “Perfect! Very good,” she said. “Over the next few weeks, you’re going to go through a series of changes. You’ll relearn to use your body and your voice. Most important, you’ll have to relearn to use your own mind.” She clicked her pen a couple of times. “There’s no other way to say this. You’ve suffered massive brain damage. Your memory is going to have gaps in it. You might not remember people you once knew and loved dearly. You might not even recognize yourself at times, and this, understandably, could be highly disorienting. But you’re in good hands here. You’ve come to the premier facility in the world for this kind of recovery, and we’ll do everything we can to see you through,” she said. “I promise.”
You are a scheming liar, I thought. How fast can I get out of here?
“Please squeeze twice if you understand,” Dr. Fallon said.
I did and then tugged free of her as quickly as I could.
Diego reached an arm around Madeline’s shoulder and gripped her tight. “How long will it be before we can take our girl home?” Diego asked, his voice rough.
“I’ll have a better idea of that after we run a few tests,” Dr. Fallon said. “We had one young man who was ready to go home in a month, almost fully recovered. Another one of our patients took six months to go home, and he’s still slowly improving there.”
“That’s not counting your patients who never revived,” Diego said.
“That’s right,” Dr. Fallon said. “Obviously, Althea doesn’t fall into that category.”
“Or the ones that relapsed,” Diego said.
“That’s always a possibility, as we’ve discussed,” Dr. Fallon said. “These next few days are especially critical. We’ll be watching her very, very carefully for the slightest regression.”
“I just can’t get over the way she’s watching us,” Madeline said. “It’s a miracle. Do you think she really understands us?”
“Blink twice, Althea,” Diego said.
The three of them turned to me again, like I was a puppy who would perform for a treat. Fine. I’ll play. For now. I blinked twice.
Madeline laughed, pressing her hands together before her mouth.
With an effort, I pointed to my water cup, and then I touched the fingertips of my two hands together, asking for more.
Madeline nodded. “What’s she doing?”
“It’s sign language. It means ‘more.’ She’s thirsty,” the doctor said. She passed Madeline my cup, and with trembling hands, Madeline held the straw to my lips again.
I sucked up the ice water and drank deeply, until the cool fluid slaked my thirst.
“But how did she know that ‘more’ signal?” Diego asked. “Did you seed that into her?”
“No. She must have known it before,” Dr. Fallon said. “Old things from deep in her memory can be coming back to her. Did you use sign language with her as a toddler?”
“No,” Madeline said, glancing at Diego. “We never did.”
“Maybe some caretaker did, or a friend,” Dr. Fallon said.
I knew all the sign language to “The More We Get Together.” Dubbs had taught me the song after she learned it in preschool, and we had practiced it for hours, singing it with shadow hands on the wall above her bunk.
I missed her, my smelly kid sister, and a twist of sorrow spun through me. I couldn’t help thinking that my love for Dubbs was what had landed me here, in this new body. The last thing I remembered from my old body was the time Dr. Ash was mining me. I’d had a memory of Dubbs on the train tracks near our home, with the flowers and the sunlight, and it had snared inextricably into a dream Dr. Ash was mining from me. I would never forget the swirling, euphoric release when I leapt free from my trapped body. I’d had to escape to survive.
My inner voice had been furious, though. She’d begged me not to go. She’d warned me. I had no idea now what had happened to the part of me that was left behind. Had she survived in my old body without me? Was my old body dead? I had to find out.
“Has ido de un misterio a otro, ?no?” Diego said. “Dime que mi peque?a todavía está ahí adentro.”
I looked to Madeline, half expecting her to translate.
“She doesn’t understand me,” he said quietly. His eyes were dark with dismay. “She’s lost her Spanish.”
“Be grateful she’s alive, Diego,” Madeline said. “Look how alert she is.”
“Be honest with us, doc,” Diego said. “Althea was going places. She was ready to start college last fall. She had plans to be a psychiatrist. Is there any point dreaming that big anymore?”
“These are early days yet,” Dr. Fallon said. “I think your daughter will have options, but for now, you’ll have to be patient and see.”
“I don’t want her to suffer anymore,” Madeline said. “That’s all I want.”
The doctor kindly put a hand on Madeline’s arm. “We’re doing all we can,” she said.
“Yes, I know,” Madeline said quickly. “And we’re beyond grateful. I mean, look at her. Look at my baby girl.”
They looked. I looked back, absorbing the weight of their hopes. I couldn’t help liking Althea’s parents, but I was destined to disappoint them when they realized who I wasn’t. I signaled “more” again, and Madeline helped hold my cup and straw. These people needed the girl they’d lost, not me.
Me. That was pathetic. I hardly knew who I was anymore. I wished I had a clue where my body was. My original self. I hoped, wherever she was, that she wasn’t still captive in Dean Berg’s vault.
4
ROSIE
THE SMELL OF GREEN
WHEN IAN APPROACHES my sleep shell, I’m ready for him.