“You always were sentimental, even when we were kids. Remember when you cried because Mom threw out that ratty teddy bear? You kept it in a box under your bed for years like it was some kind of treasure. That’s who you are. You hold on to things that don’t matter, and you can’t see the bigger picture.”
I wanted to open my eyes. I wanted to see her face, to see if she looked like the sister I remembered or if she’d become someone I didn’t recognize. But I kept still. I kept listening because something told me this was important, that I needed to hear all of it.
“The car accident,” Vanessa continued, “that was supposed to be simple. Marcus said the brake line would fail on a curve and it would look like you lost control. He said it would be quick, but you survived the initial impact, and then you were in a coma, and now we’re here eleven days later and I can’t wait anymore.”
“Marina, the developers are ready to move. The contracts are drawn up. All I need is for you to be gone.”
My heart was pounding so hard I thought the monitor would scream, but the machines kept their steady rhythm. The ventilator kept breathing for me, and Vanessa kept talking.
“I’m going to sign the DNR tonight. And then if you’re still here by morning, well, accidents happen in hospitals. People on ventilators, their tubes get dislodged, their IVs get contaminated. It’s tragic, but it happens. And by the end of the week, I’ll have the property. Marcus will have his development deal, and you’ll finally be at peace.”
She reached out, and I felt her hand on my arm. It was warm. It was the hand that used to braid my hair when we were little. The hand that had held mine at Grandma’s funeral. It felt like a stranger’s hand.
“I love you, Marina. I hope you know that this isn’t personal. It’s just business.”
She stood up. I heard her heels click across the floor. The door opened, closed, and I was alone with the machines and the knowledge that my sister had tried to kill me once and was planning to finish the job.
If you’re still with me, if your heart is pounding the way mine was in that moment, leave a comment. Tell me you’re here, because this is where it gets complicated.
I waited five minutes after Vanessa left before I opened my eyes.
The room was dim, lit only by the glow of the monitors and the light from the hallway seeping under the door. I was in a private room, which made sense if Vanessa was planning something. Fewer witnesses.
I tried to move my hand and felt the pull of an IV line. I tried to swallow around the breathing tube and gagged. The ventilator alarm started beeping.
Thirty seconds later, a nurse came in. She was young, maybe mid-twenties, with dark hair pulled back in a ponytail and tired eyes that said she was near the end of a long shift.
She saw my open eyes and froze.
“Oh my God. Oh my God, you’re awake.”
She ran to the door and shouted something I couldn’t quite hear. Then she was back at my bedside, checking the monitors, her hands quick and efficient.
“Marina, can you hear me? Blink once for yes.”
I blinked.
She smiled, a real smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes.
“Okay. Okay, that’s amazing. I’m Stephanie. I’m your nurse. You’ve been in a medically induced coma for eleven days. You were in a car accident. Do you remember?”
I blinked again.
“Good. Okay. The breathing tube is really uncomfortable. I know. The doctor’s on his way. We’re going to get you extubated as soon as we can. Okay? Just stay calm. You’re safe.”
But I wasn’t safe. That was the problem.
Vanessa had power of attorney. Vanessa had signed a DNR, and Vanessa would be back in the morning expecting to find me either dead or close enough that she could make it happen. I needed time. I needed to think, and I needed Stephanie to believe I was still too out of it to understand what was happening.
Dr. Prut arrived ten minutes later with another nurse and a respiratory therapist. They extubated me, which was exactly as awful as it sounds. And for the next hour, I focused on just breathing on my own, on not panicking, on letting them run their tests and shine lights in my eyes and ask me questions I answered with nods and headshakes.
“Do you know your name?”
