Within These Walls (The Walls Duet #1)(3)

He took a few steps, hesitated slightly, and then walked the remaining distance to the bed. He seemed uneasy, and his eyes were roaming around the room as if they were desperately trying to lock on to anything but me. Finally, he met my gaze, and immediately, I knew he had bad news.

“Hey, Lailah,” he said.

“Hi, Dr. Marcus.”

“Listen, kid—” he started.

I interrupted him, “I’m not a kid anymore.”

“Right. I keep forgetting. Twenty-two. Crazy.”

Dr. Marcus had been caring for me since I was a child. I’d gone to other hospitals for more complicated procedures, and other doctors and specialists had seen me over the years, but I’d always been under the care of Dr. Marcus. Besides my mother, he was the closest thing I had to family.

“I’ve looked at your levels, and it’s not happening today, Lailah.”

“Why?” I whispered.

He arched his brow, giving me a pointed stare.

“My breathing,” I answered my own question.

He nodded. “Yes, your breathing isn’t good—I can tell you that standing across the room and your heart is beating irregularly. I’m sorry. I know you wanted to hit the road today, but until we get you in better shape, I can’t let that happen.”

I turned to my mother, who was staring at me with a sad, concerned expression. Our eyes met, and she gave me a hesitant smile. She wouldn’t fight him. I knew that from experience. She followed all doctor instructions to the letter. When it came to my health, she wasn’t willing to take even an iota of a chance.

“Okay,” I said, turning back to Dr. Marcus, as I tried to fight back the tears. “I guess it’s time for bad food and daytime TV for me once again.”

“I’ll make sure they send up extra dessert,” he said with a wink.

His focus then went to my mother and I watched her rise from her chair to join him across the room. Huddled together, I could hear very little of what they were saying, but from what I managed to catch, I was going to be stuck within these walls for quite a bit longer.

Freedom had suddenly vanished before my eyes.

Back to jail I go.





TODAY WAS MY birthday.

I was twenty-four—wait, maybe twenty-five?

Shit, I should probably know that.

It had been three years since the accident. A celebratory vacation had brought me to California, but it had turned into nothing but shattered dreams and sorrow. Since then, I hadn’t cared much about birthdays or any celebrations in general.

It had been three years since I lost her.

I guessed that meant I was turning twenty-five today.

Happy birthday, Jude.

Four years ago, on the day I’d turned twenty-one, I’d spent my birthday bar-hopping and clubbing with my fraternity brothers, throwing around cash like I had a never-ending supply—and at the time, I had.

“Go have fun,” my dad had said.

And we had done just that. I couldn’t remember half of what had gone down that night. All I could recall was spending the next morning with my head hunched over a toilet while Megan had nursed me back to health.

Tonight, however, I had a hot birthday date with a few bedpans, a bevy of charts, and if I was lucky, a fifteen-minute break with the vending machine. Maybe I could really go all out and get a Milky Way tonight.

For two years now, I’d worked at Memorial Hospital in Santa Monica as a CNA—basically, a glorified orderly who was required to pass tests and earn certificates. While I’d started from the bottom as a janitor, a sympathetic HR woman, Margaret, had taken pity on me after seeing me roaming the hospital halls for weeks. Realizing I’d never leave otherwise, she’d offered me a janitor position, and I’d said yes on the spot. When I’d listed my newly earned Princeton business degree under education, she’d raised her eyebrows a bit, but she never asked any questions. When I’d firmly requested not to have my last name listed on my ID badge for personal reasons, she’d just arched her brow a bit further, handed me my newly made ID, and sent me on my way.

I’d barely left the hospital since.

I had a small apartment across town where I would sleep between shifts and make mediocre meals, but this place was where I lived the majority of my waking hours. I usually worked overtime and took extra shifts when people needed days off just so I could stay within the walls of this hospital.

This was the only type of home I had anymore.

I hadn’t really lived a day of my life since arriving here three years ago with blood dripping down my face as I’d screamed out Megan’s name over and over, trying to will her back into consciousness. It hadn’t worked in the ER, and it hadn’t worked in the horrible days that followed either. I’d been walking these empty halls without her ever since, following her ghost around corners and down halls while I tried in vain to just exist.

I couldn’t live when everything I’d lived for was dead.

Stopping by the vending machine, I pulled out the loose change in my pocket until I found the exact amount for my birthday-dinner treat. Dropping the coins in the slot, I pressed the correct combination of buttons and waited for the candy bar to push forward before plummeting to the bottom. It dropped with a hard thunk, and I quickly bent down to retrieve it.

Less than three minutes later, I’d demolished the candy bar, and the wrapper was long gone in a trash can. I made my way back to the nurses’ station from the vending machine to check back in. I’d just rounded the corner when I came face-to-face with Margaret.