Page 2 of Heidi Lucy Loses Her Mind
He found me on the floor of the bookshop? When did that happen?
I take a deep breath, and then another, and another still. Next to my bed, the heart rate monitor begins beeping faster as my pulse spikes.
What exactly is going on here? There’s a vague panic rising behind my sternum, an anxiety I can’t place.
Something is wrong. I need to be somewhere else. Doing…something. There’s somewhere I need to be.
Where do I need to be?
“And today’s date?” the doctor says. He seems unperturbed, which is more than I can say for myself or Soren. Soren is pacing now, but his eyes never leave me; his jaw is tight, his mouth compressed into a thin line. Meanwhile, my heart rate monitor continues to beep faster and faster.
“Miss Lucy,” the doctor says in what I think is supposed to be a calming voice. “Take a deep breath, please.”
I inhale automatically. None of us speak for several seconds, until Soren throws his hands up in the air.
“Exhale, Heidi,” he says, abandoning his pacing. He crosses the room and reaches my bed in two long strides, where he reaches over and taps gently on my collarbone. “You’re supposed to let the breath out.”
I swat his hand away as my breath gusts out of me. Soren resumes his pacing, muttering something that sounds suspiciously likeDon’t know how you’ve survived this long.
“Miss Lucy,” the doctor says again, still speaking gently. I think he’s waiting for me to explode; that makes two of us. “Can you tell me the date, please?”
When I answer him, though, his brow furrows and his mouth turns down at the corners. He looks…concerned. Soren shoots him an equally worried look, which has me shifting in my bed.
“What’s that?” I say, pointing to Soren’s face. “That look. What is that look?” Then, to the doctor, I say, “Is something wrong? Is today not Wednesday?” Except no—that’s not right. It’s dark outside. Is it still Tuesday?
The doctor blinks at me owlishly. “Today,” he says, “is not Wednesday. It is early Thursday morning”—he looks down at his watch—“at approximately twelve-fifteen a.m.” He clears his throat, crossing his arms, clipboard still in hand. “You appear to be missing some time.”
Maybe it’s the head wound. Maybe I’m still regaining all my faculties. Whatever the reason, the doctor’s meaning doesn’t quite register at first.
“Time?” I say, looking blankly at him.
“Perhaps twenty-four hours,” the doctor says. “You don’t remember what day it is?”
Wordlessly, I shake my head.
He nods. “Then it seems that you’ve lost some of your memories.”
“Some of my memories?” I say, and that stupid heart rate monitor starts beeping faster again. “What memories?”
And look. I am normally a calm, composed woman. But I am teetering on the edge of some sort of breakdown here. I can feel it in my calm, composed bones.
“We’ll get to that in a moment,” the doctor says. And his voice is still soothing, but he’s moved closer to my bed now, and his eyes on me are more focused, more alert. “Tell me the last thing you remember, please.”
“Uh,” I say, racking my brain. My memories slide slowly past, a sluggish film playing back. “I went to bed. On Tuesday night,” I clarify.
“At what time?”
I clear my throat. “It was…late-ish.”Please don’t make me say it,I beg him silently.
The doctor cocks an eyebrow, inviting me to go on. I look to Soren for help, but the only thing I find there is a crack in his stoic mask—the faintest twitch of his lips.
“She stays up late reading,” Man Bun says. “You’re probably looking at two or three in the morning.”
I glare at him, but he just shrugs, looking unapologetic.
“That’s about right,” I say grudgingly. I resist the urge to touch my face, even though I can feel my cheeks burning.
I wish Soren didn’t know that about me.
