I swat away her hand and start to sit up. “Where is she? I want to be with her.”
Lotta tries to hold me back, but I struggle against her.
The tubes get caught on something, and my hand stings. She grabs my arm.
“Please, Isabelle, calm down.”
“Where is she?”
“There’s nothing you can do right now,” Lotta says.
She can’t be gone. She just can’t.
The doctor takes me by the shoulders and tells me to breathe deeply. The two of them help me back into the bed.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
“No,” I sob. “Please.”
“You need to rest for a while now.” The doctor nods to Lotta, who injects something into one of the tubes.
A feeling of ice on my skin, the cold spreads through my veins. Then I sink back into bed. And continue sinking. I disappear into warm, gentle water. Above the surface a man and woman look down at me. I see in their faces that they know. They know, but don’t want to tell me.
It’s too late. Everything is too late. Stella is gone.
She’s dead.
Isabelle
It’s raining outside. The wind tosses itself at the window, and there’s the patter of raindrops on the glass.
The emptiness inside aches, inside my head, behind my eyes.
A man is sitting on a chair next to the bed. He didn’t notice that I woke up. He looks tired, and as if he’s been crying. I have a suspicion of who he might be.
I change position, and the man looks up.
“Hello,” he says. “I was supposed to let them know when you woke up.”
“There’s no need.”
“Do you want something? Are you thirsty?” He opens a water bottle standing on the table next to the bed and pours some into a transparent plastic cup. He hands it to me. I take it and drink it all.
“Are you my father?” I regret the question when I see how surprised he is. I feel ashamed and stare down at the yellow hospital blanket. The man takes my hand in his. It’s warm.
“No, I’m not your father,” he answers. “My name is Henrik.”
“Are you Stella’s husband?”
He nods.
“Do I have a dad, do you know?”
“His name is Daniel.”
I pull my hand away and shift position again. I feel the tube attached to my hand. There has been blood flowing beneath the tape next to the needle. It’s unpleasant, and I wish I could get it off. I wish I didn’t have to be here at all.
Henrik studies me. His eyes are red. “Stella never stopped thinking about you. Never stopped hoping.”
I don’t want to talk about Stella. I take the water bottle, screw off the top, and drink directly from it. Then I put on the lid again and place the bottle back on the table. I can feel Henrik’s eyes on me, but refuse to look up and meet them.
“It’s all my fault,” I say.
Henrik leans toward me. “That’s not true. You shouldn’t feel like that. If anyone is to blame it’s me. If only I’d believed her, none of this would have happened.”
“I never even got to know her.”
Henrik looks at me with a look I can’t interpret. “What do you mean?” he says.
I don’t have time to answer. The door opens, and the doctor comes in.
“How are you, Isabelle?” he says.
“So-so,” I answer.
“That makes sense.”
The doctor explains that I was suffering from hypothermia when the police brought me to the emergency room. I have some minor injuries, and I’ll probably be in pain for a while. The kinds of events I’ve been through have a traumatic impact on the whole body.
“We have a social worker here who you can talk to. Just so you know.”
I don’t answer, just want them to leave me alone.
“I’m here, too, Isabelle,” Henrik says. “And, sooner or later, Stella, too.”
I stare at him.
“Stella?”
“It was a complicated operation,” the doctor says.
“Her heart stopped,” Henrik says, taking my hand again. “She was gone. No one thought she’d make it.”
“She survived?”
“We’re taking it one day at a time.” He smiles. “But Stella is the most stubborn person I know.”
“Do you mind if I borrow Henrik for a moment?” the doctor says. I shake my head. Henrik stands and tells me he’ll be back soon. The doctor turns around in the doorway.
“A nurse will be here soon to take a few of your vitals. And the police want to talk to you. See you soon, Isabelle.”
“I’m not Isabelle,” I say.
The doctor looks at me questioningly.
“My name is Alice.”