Unseen Messages(165)

So why now?

Why did death cling to me like the stench of decay?

Galloway.

The moment his name popped into my head, images of his smile, his touch, his laugh, his kiss...all spindled in my head, crushing me harder and harder into the supple mattress.

I rolled over, hugging the white pillow, sobbing my heart and soul into its starched perfection.

I didn’t know how long I cried.

I didn’t care how long I drowned in tears.

I would sail away on them, unmoored and unnoticed, until I met Galloway in another life.

However, I couldn’t let go.

I couldn’t be so selfish.

Pippa.

Coco.

They need me.

The men.

They had them. They’d hurt my babies.

Cannon firing memories shot me upright; my fists raised, searching the room for the men who’d hurt my family.

Where were they?

Where were my daughters?

Adrenaline crashed through my blood like rogue waves, searching for my victims.

But no one was there.

Was it a nightmare?

Not real?

Sniffing back tears, I blinked, expecting to see the bright glare of virginal sunshine, hear the soft hish hish of the tide, and fall in love with (just like I did every morning) the images of my family arguing and laughing by the cheery fire pit.

Only...

None of that existed.

Not anymore.

I was in a room.

A room!

I hadn’t been in a room for three and a half years.

I was in a bed.

With sheets.

And pillows.

And creamy cotton blankets.

There was a television and curtains and wallpaper and light switches. A painting hung on the wall mocking me with delicate seahorses and anemones swaying in a non-existent current.

Instead of being relieved at finally, finally being found, all I focused on was how?

Where am I?

Who are they?

Where are Pippa and Coco?

How had this happened without my knowledge?

Throwing myself out of bed, I plucked at the white nightgown covering my salty, skinny body. My ragged bleached hair looked almost as colourless as the gown. A strange after-taste burned my tongue, and a small Band-Aid covered a puncture wound inside my elbow.

What the hell happened?

Was this heaven?

Had I died with Galloway?

My bare feet dashed across the short-pile carpet, beelining for the exit.

I passed the bathroom and slammed to a halt.

A woman stared back.

As much as the men who’d tried to hurt my family were strangers, so too was this mirrored reflection.

It took three heartbeats to recognise myself. Five more until the hurried breathing in the mirror matched mine. My eyes were wild beneath unkempt seaweed hair. My collarbones looked as if they lived within a skin layer of flying free on skeletal wings. My legs were sticks. My fullish chest was mostly flat with teardrop bumps reminding me I’d suckled Coco. I’d grown from na?ve introvert to powerful mother all while combating survival.

The outlander was me.

And I’d never felt more alone.

Tears came swiftly but I didn’t have time for such nonsense.

I’d cried enough.

I’d cry again later.

But for now, I had to find my daughters. I’d made a promise. Galloway had died believing I would keep that promise.

Turning away, I wrenched open the door and charged into the corridor.

Rows and rows of identical doors greeted me. Numbers labelled them from high to low, peepholes glittered in artificial light, and sideboards held seashells and sculptures of clownfish and turtles.

Where am I?

A man came around the corner in a light grey pantsuit with a tray of covered food and water.

Water.

Yes, please.

Not evergreen-tainted water from our trees or slightly earthy rainwater from our reservoirs.

Pure, pure water.

In a glass tinkling with ice.

Ice!

Did such a wondrous thing still exist?

“Ah, you’re awake. I was just coming to get you.”

My mind snapped from the water trance, and I spun around, expecting to see another person behind me.

He couldn’t be speaking to me...surely? I’d never set eyes on him before, yet he spoke as if he knew me.

I turned back to face him, pointing at myself. “You’re speaking to me?”

He smiled. He was older than the interloping vagabonds on my island but kindness radiated in his eyes. A stethoscope hung around his neck and his nametag gave him an address of Stefan.

“Yes, of course. You’re the woman rescued from the island.”

My mouth dried up.

Placing the tray on the sideboard with clownfish frolicking, he held out his hand. “Pleasure to meet you. You were awake last night, but I did wonder if you would remember. After all, such trauma can sometimes render a mind forgetful for a time.”

I couldn’t look away from his hand. It’d been so long since I’d touched anyone but Galloway and the children.

Conner.

His memory took me by surprise at the worst moments.

Galloway.

Both...were gone.

Tears pricked my eyes as I stared at the man’s hand. Did I want to touch him? Was it safe?

But he never dropped his offering, forcing me to be brave and place my fingers into his.