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You’re already standing on the edge of the pool, you think to yourself with a steadying breath, might as well hop in… Cracking your neck as Christy’s hand returns to her throat, you break the silence by asking what she remembers.
She turns away from you and focuses instead on her phone. “It’s funny,” the mechanical voice begins, “when I heard I would be your liaison during this crisis, I was ecstatic.”
You blink. That’s uh, that’s surprising! Erm, what does ‘<span class="mu-i">exstastic</span>’ mean again?
“It meant that if I was lucky, I’d be the first one to know that you died.”
The hallway plunges into silence once more as the personal assistant continues typing. Well then..
“For the longest time, Stanley, I wanted nothing more–as far as I was concerned, my life ended that night, and you were the one who took it from me.”
Your instincts tell you to argue, SHOUT, DO <span class="mu-i">SOMETHING</span>, but your lips remain sealed as she continues typing away.
“I awoke in the hospital a few days after the incident–the doctor told me I’d been out for almost two weeks.” A bitter smile creeps onto her face. “I suppose it’s better than a month. Or <span class="mu-i">years</span>. Or <span class="mu-i">forever</span>.”
You open your mouth to redirect her to the night of, but you’re cut off. “I was told shortly after waking up that there was an issue during the surgical process–I won’t bore you with the details, but suffice it to say they screwed up: they saved my larynx, but didn’t fix it.”
Can, you ask quietly, can she still speak? At <span class="mu-i">all?</span>
Christy nods. “Barely above a whisper,” Replies the phone. “And each syllable feels like a hacksaw raking across my vocal chords.” Another grim smile. “So yes, I guess I can. I generally choose <span class="mu-i">not</span> to, though.”
Makes sense to you…
>CONTD.
