I don’t think I can manage that, but I nod again anyway.
The nurse comes a few minutes after Nina leaves and takes me into the room where I showered earlier. I drop down onto the couch next to the window, take out my phone, and send a message to Sisi asking about Lena. We haven’t told her what happened.
I scroll through my phone, going through twenty or so texts from Milene asking about Mikhail and if I need anything. In one, she asked if I’m coming to Father’s funeral tomorrow. I let her know that Mikhail's condition is unchanged, ignore the funeral part, and throw the phone onto the seat next to me. As far as I’m concerned, I hope my father burns in hell.
*
The damn vending machine is stuck. I try hitting it with my palm a few times, but nothing happens. Sighing, I leave the machine and head to the cafeteria on the other side of the building. I’m not hungry at all, but I started feeling dizzy in the last hour, probably my body telling me that I haven’t gotten any food into my stomach other than a salad Nina made me eat yesterday.
As I approach the sliding door that leads into the cafeteria, I notice my reflection in the glass. My hair is tangled to the point that it looks like I was assaulted. My face is ghostly pale, except for the dark brown bags under my eyes, and for a second, I debate going inside with all those people there. I look like a train wreck, but then I decide I don’t give a damn. I pick the smallest sandwich I can find and a lemonade, and I finish both by the time I get back. As I turn the corner, a nurse exits the room and reaches me in a few strides. I remember her from last night when she came to give me a blanket.
“We’ve just brought your husband into the room. He’s still sedated, but he’ll be waking up soon, so just buzz me when he does, okay?”
When I don’t say anything, she smiles and lightly squeezes my arm in reassurance. “He’ll be fine, sweetheart, don’t worry. You should try talking to him, it’ll help in waking him up.”
Roman and Maxim are standing a few feet down the hallway, watching me. I turn toward the open door only a few steps ahead, but my legs refuse to move any closer I don’t know why, but I’m suddenly afraid to go inside. I take a deep breath, then another, and finally, will my feet to make those few steps and enter the room.
Mikhail is lying with his head tilted to the side, a white sheet covering him up to the chest. There is an IV stand on the side of the bed, and several other tubes and wires. Some of them are attached to a small monitor above, and for a moment, I’m transfixed with the pulsing line showing his heartbeat.
I grab a chair from the corner, place it on the side of the bed and slowly sit down. I want to take his hand and put it to my face, but I’m afraid it’ll hurt him, so I just move closer and lay my head on the bed next to his pillow. For some time, I just watch him, hating how still he is, until I gather the courage to reach out and place my palm on his cheek. Someone removed his eyepatch. He won’t like that.
The nurse said that talking should help waking him up. I’m not sure what good I’ll be with that, but I’ll try my best.
I come awake with a faint sound close to my ear. I try opening my eyes but fail, so I focus on the sound. At first, it’s like a vibration in my head, but slowly, it transforms into a voice. It’s so weak, barely a whisper, and I need to concentrate to understand the words.
“You scared me . . . so much.”
The air smells of a hospital, but I don’t know how I got here. My head feels like it’s in a fog.
The voice continues whispering, “When you are . . . well enough . . . I’m going . . . to strangle you.”
My mind slowly gets back on track, remembering. Going into that house and finding Bruno with his gun pointed at Bianca’s head. Bianca running toward her father while he was aiming his gun at me. The panic that consumed me when I realized what was going on. My solnyshko, who tried to come between me and that bullet. I don’t know what I would have done if that bullet hit her instead of me.
“I love you . . . please . . .wake up.”
The last words get lost. For how long has she been talking? I will my eyes to open.
“No more talking,” I rasp.
Bianca’s head snaps up from my pillow. She leans over me and cups my face with her palms. My vision is blurred, and there is not much light in the room, but I still notice the puffiness and redness around her eyes and the mess her hair is in. I don’t remember ever seeing Bianca like that. She sniffs, places a kiss on my mouth, and starts signing, but I can’t decipher the shapes her hands make.