Give Me Hope by Zoey Derrick Page B

registering sensations.”
    “Is the delay in the reaction normal?”
    “For now, yes. It really doesn’t mean anything, only that she is still under the medication. Which is okay. As it wears off, that reaction should get a little faster.”
    I nod.  
    “Have you seen any movement?” she asks.  
    “A little while ago, I thought I saw her mouth twitch.”  
    “It’s not impossible. About another hour and the sedative should stop working altogether. Once we reach that point, I will be sending Amanda in here to keep a close watch on her vitals.”  
    She moves around the bed, pulls the tape out from the fetal monitor and begins to look over it.  
    The action sends a shiver of excitement through me, and I’m not really sure why.
    “What kind of plans have you made for her once she is released?” Dr. Alston peers at me out of the corner of her eye. “You know she can’t go back to that apartment,” she states matter-of-factly.  
    “I’m aware, but her will and determination are going to make it quite the battle.”  
    She smiles at me. “But you’re just the right person to argue with her.”
    I let out a breathy laugh. “You’re right, I am. I have an additional condo in my building that’s not being used. If I can’t convince her to stay with me, she can live there until either she is back on her feet again or this whole mess is taken care of.” As I say this, a sharp warning zing lights up my back, and I get the sudden impression that getting to the bottom of this mess is not going to be an easy task.  
    “Well, once she is fully recovered, I don’t see any reason that she can’t find a way to take care of herself. Whatever you do, don’t stifle her. You might be able to get her to stay with you or to take that apartment, but whatever you do, make sure that she has the freedom to do things on her own. I could be wrong, of course, but she is very independent, and I don’t see her changing that. So if you can help her while letting her make her own choices, she will be much better off.” She puts down the tape and looks at me. “She needs help, counseling - especially that. I can take care of her physical medical needs, but you need to make sure that she sees a psychiatrist.”
    I nod, contemplating. “I wish I could just take it all away from her. All the memories, all the hardship she’s endured. She deserves so much better than that.”
    “You’re absolutely right, but we cannot change the things that have happened to her, we can only help her move forward.”  
    She unwraps the stethoscope from her neck and holds it to Vivienne’s chest.
    I wonder idly if, when she’s ready, I can convince Vivienne to work for MSBE.  
    I watch Dr. Alston move the stethoscope around, listening. When she is done, she pulls up the blanket to look at the incision on Vivienne’s ribs. She pulls back the gauze.
    “What the hell?” she says.

Thirty
    “What’s the matter?” A pulsing radiates throughout my entire body. It’s the same sensation that came yesterday when I got really excited. Oh, no.  
    “Her incision.”  
    I panic slightly. Fighting the sensations across my back, I stand up. “What’s wrong with it?”
    “Nothing.”  
    I scowl at her.  
    “I mean, well, nothing is wrong except for the fact that it’s...” She pauses and I lean over to look. “Come around, you can see better.”
    I sidestep the chair and the bed, walking around to come up on Dr. Alston’s right.
    “Look.” She holds out her hand. A couple of thick staples rest on her palm.  
    I look at the area under the bandage. “What on earth? It’s practically gone.” In place of what was probably an angry red incision just yesterday is a faint, nearly perfectly healed line about an inch and a half long.  
    “I’ve heard of - and even seen - some fast healers, but I’ll be damned if I’ve ever seen anything this fast.” She slowly pulls the rest of the gauze aside and rolls Vivienne forward just a