She moved across the room and extended a hand. “I’m Sabrina. I work with the patients here.”
I accepted the handshake, feeling suspicious of every word. Why not just say she was a social worker? Or was she some sort of therapist?
I realized I hadn’t answered. “Hello, Sabrina,” I said. Manners, Corabelle. Normal and sane.
She pulled a stool next to the bed, smoothing out her zebra-striped skirt that fluttered over her knees, another anachronism. “Your doctors asked me to stop by and chat with you.”
My face burned as my heart rate accelerated. At least I wasn’t on monitors anymore, so Sabrina couldn’t tell. “Did we get my insurance squared away?”
“Oh, I’m not with billing or anything. I came to talk to you a little about your history, and what happened the other day.”
I didn’t answer, not sure what to say, what could cause trouble for me.
She opened a folder. “I got your records from the UCSD health clinic.”
Now my heart really hammered. The doctor there had written me a mental health referral. God, I wished I’d never gone. If Gavin had just told me about the vasectomy before, I wouldn’t have been in there thinking I was pregnant.
I realized I was clenching the sheets and forced myself to let go. “Yes, I’ve been there just once,” I said.
“For a pregnancy test and an STD screening.”
This was so humiliating. “So what does that have to do with my pneumonia?”
Sabrina arranged her face into a clinical smile, and I immediately stiffened, on guard. “I just thought you might want to talk through some of the things that might have led to the event a few days ago.”
“Do you think they are related?” I had to be careful. Every question felt like a trap.
“Well, I just see some elements in your file that might indicate you’re under a lot of stress.”
I looked down at my hands, not able to keep my gaze as steady and calm as I wanted. Everyone told me I had the poker face of a kitten, so there was no keeping up the ruse that my life was normal. “My classes are going fine. I’m a little behind now, of course, but it should be all right.”
She leaned forward, her black glasses sliding forward on her nose. “Corabelle, I know about the baby. That must have been really hard.”
I knew I should look her in the eye, show how well adjusted I was, but I couldn’t. She had no idea how hard it was. The NICU, the monitors, the doctors saying they wouldn’t operate, the ventilator going silent. Holding Finn until his chest stopped moving.
My hands were pale against the white sheets. I would wait her out, say as little as possible. I wished I knew my rights, if they could keep me here.
“Corabelle?”
She was going to make me talk. I needed an interruption, a fire alarm, something to get me out of this. I wished for Gavin. He was so much better at this sort of thing, acting nonchalant, disarming people with his charm. “It was a long time ago. I’m fine now.”
“The doctor at the clinic seemed to think you could use some assistance working things out.”
“He didn’t seem too concerned. It was optional, just there if I needed it.” I moved my gaze to the window, the blinds tightly closed. I wanted them wide, to see something outside this oppressive room — open air, the sky, and maybe the sea.
“I’m just here to help you. Are you worried about talking to me?”
I forced myself to look at her, to smile. “You seem very nice. I’m just ready to go home and get back to classes.”
“You want to talk about New Mexico? I know you left there suddenly.”
My throat got so tight that I didn’t think I could talk if I wanted to. What did she know? What records had she accessed? I would kill to see what had been transferred in the files.
“You were arrested?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“You want to tell me about that?”
I wanted to say “Not really,” but that didn’t seem sane or well adjusted. “It’s in the past.”
She touched a finger to her lips, tapping them with a long blue nail. “Seems like maybe it’s still troubling you. Did you ever talk to your professor after your altercation?”
God, she knew everything. “I was asked to apologize.”
“How did that go?”
I wanted to snap, “About as well as it goes when you’ve smacked a pregnant woman,” but I just shrugged. “She handled it okay.”
A man arrived with the breakfast tray, and I was so relieved I could have hugged him. When he saw Sabrina, he stopped. “Should I leave this over here?” He pointed to a rolling cart by the wall.
Sabrina stood up. “Oh no, I think this is her first meal. She should eat.”
He set the tray on the cart and rolled it over to fit across my bed.
“Thank you,” I said, glad to have somewhere to look.
“I’ll drop by again later,” Sabrina said. “We can talk some more about your last school.”
Great. “Okay.” I lifted the blue plastic lid that covered a plate with eggs and a piece of toast, concentrating on it as though it consumed all my attention.
She headed back out alongside the man, and when they were outside the door, I covered the eggs again and let my head fall back against the pillow. I wanted a computer, the internet, to look up my situation and see how to handle it, what would happen if I refused to cooperate. I wanted Gavin, and Jenny, allies, someone to talk this through.
A hospital phone sat on the side table, but it was useless. Like most people with cell phones and contact lists, I didn’t have any numbers memorized. Although maybe my phone was dried out enough to turn on. I could at least get the numbers.
In a minute. I pressed my hand against my chest, willing myself to calm down. I didn’t want to start another coughing fit. Sabrina wanted to talk about New Mexico. It seemed she already knew what had happened. So the records were out there. The university hadn’t suppressed it all.
That afternoon was still so clear in my memory. I had been fine for months, not even relying on the blackouts much anymore to keep me grounded. I was three years into school, finally gaining enough seniority to get a private dorm room. I had a great job in the main office and important references, including deans and the assistant president of the university, which would almost ensure an easy slide into grad school. With one year to go on my bachelor’s degree, I was already looking at my options for where to go and how to pay for it.
Then a simple walk through campus on a chilly spring day changed everything. I rounded the corner of a parking garage and bumped straight into my lit professor from the previous semester. I knew she was pregnant, but now she was enormous, her belly a mile in front of her as she leaned against the wall on the back side of the building.
Everything happened so fast. Her eyes went wide as her fingers tightened on the joint between her lips. I knew immediately what it was, and I just reacted, knocking her hand away from her mouth. How dare she smoke that thing while she was pregnant? What was she thinking?
My blow struck much harder than I expected, and she fell back into the wall, the rough bricks scraping her face.
Then she was bleeding. I realized I had hurt her, and now I was in big trouble.
She looked up at me, one hand against her cheek and the other on her belly. I backed away, turned, and ran.
The trees blurred around me. I could see Finn. Gavin. My parents. Katie. Her kitchen, the joints. The pregnancy stick. The doctors, telling me Finn’s heart could not be saved. I dodged cars and passed startled passersby. I kept going until my lungs were bursting and I couldn’t go any farther. I sat on the ground behind a maintenance building, far off the path of students trekking to classes. I gulped in air, then held my breath, then decided it was unwise, then did it anyway. I welcomed the black like I had never done before, wishing I could make it last, wanting it to be permanent.