Chapter Five

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Three Years Earlier

The pain was shooting through her. So much pain. It seemed to be radiating from every part of her body, but especially from her head.

She forced open one of her eyes and immediately snapped it shut again when the light gave her yet another stab of pain and robbed her of her breath. Fighting for air, she tried to tamp down the panic of not being able to breathe. Of hurting to the point that she couldn't think.

But she heard…something.

The distant murmurs of someone talking. They were too far away and their voices too faint for her to hear what they were saying. But someone was here. Someone was close by.

Why wasn't she comforted by that thought?

Why did it cause terror to wash over her?

Another wave of panic and pain came, drowning out those questions. The waves were even harder than the first one. Something she hadn't thought possible. Her head felt as if it might explode.

Mercy, what had happened to her?

Whatever it was, it had to be serious. Was she dying?

That horrible realization got her eyes open again, and despite the nauseating punch of pain that it immediately caused, she forced herself to glance around. To try to figure out where she was and what was happening to her.

She was in a bed in a small room with plain white walls and no other furniture except for a brown nightstand and a small chest of drawers. This wasn't a hospital, though so that probably meant she wasn't dying. Probably . But it wasn't her bed either.

At least she didn't think it was.

This one was too hard, the mattress pressing into her back and causing some of the pain. And there was nothing familiar around her. It was a strange bedroom with that blaring light fixture on overhead.

No light was coming in through the single window. The heavy curtains were completely closed.

She continued to glance around, searching for anything that would help with the pain and the panic. It didn't help when she spotted the IV inserted into the back of her hand. So, she was injured. Of course, she was. You didn't get this kind of pain unless something bad had happened.

But what?

She heard those voices again. Maybe her imagination. But maybe not. The sounds were coming from just outside the door to this room. Not a friendly conversation. Someone seemed to be arguing.

"Who's there?" she tried to ask, but her voice was a raspy whisper.

The murmuring people must not have heard her, and she didn't call out again. Couldn't. No energy. Just that fresh fog rolling in over her brain.

Part of it welcomed it because it was rolling over the fog as well, but it was taking her back under. Forcing her to sleep. She didn't want to sleep. She wanted answers.

But that didn't happen.

She sank down into the fog, not able to stop it. Her eyelids fluttered down, and the darkness came, consuming her.

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