Dark Redemption

by Angie Sandro

  A woman in a white lab coat rolls a large machine that looks like a giant computer into the room, and I heave upright. “What in the world is that thing?”

  Landry presses me back onto the table. “Dr. Mello said she’ll do an ultrasound to make sure the baby is okay.”

  Oh no, the baby…My fingers slip from Landry’s hand, but he grabs them when I try to touch my stomach. It feels funny. Before it felt full. Hard. I hadn’t noticed how tight my uterus had become until right now. I feel empty, in more ways than this.

  The doctor slips on a pair of wire glasses and smiles down at me. My muscles relax. She wouldn’t smile if something was wrong.

  “Hello, doctor,” I say, wishing I could smile back, but I’m too nervous. “Nice to meet you.”

  “The pleasure is mine, Ms. LaCroix. Give me a minute to set this machine up, and we’ll begin.”

  My toes curl against the cold metal stirrups. “Okay.”

  Breathe. Everything’s okay. My hand tightens around Landry’s, and he lifts it to press a quick kiss over the fluttering pulse in my wrist. I shift on the padded table, but keep sliding toward the bottom. And the arches of my feet ache. The crinkling paper sounds too loud in the otherwise quiet room. Each breath comes faster.

  Why isn’t Landry saying anything? The silence stretches, and I grit my teeth against the jittery anger filling me. Why is this taking so long? I don’t want to be here anymore. I glance around the room and see my folded T-shirt and jeans on a chair. My socks are stuffed in my tennis shoes beneath it. Why didn’t they leave them on? My feet are cold. I should go. This is a waste of time and money. The baby’s okay. So am I.

  Dr. Mello sets the machine on the opposite side of the exam table. The monitor faces her, not us. She turns to us with another smile and holds up a probe wearing a condom, which is what Landry should’ve doubled up on so I wouldn’t be in this mess.

  “I’ll be doing a transvaginal ultrasound. This is a transducer, but I call it my magic wand,” she says. “Once it’s inserted inside you, sound waves will recreate images of your uterus on the screen. Your fiancé says you’re over six weeks along?” She raises an eyebrow. I nod, not bothering to correct her on the whole fiancé business. “Then the gestational sac and the fetal pole should be visible.”

  “The what?” Landry asks for both of us.

  “Yolk sac,” she says. “We may even have a heartbeat. Now, this will be a bit uncomfortable, but it will be over before you know it.”

  I focus on happy thoughts while she inserts her magic wand. The pressure is more than a bit uncomfortable. And not at all as pleasurable as having Landry’s wand inside me. She begins to move it around, checking stuff out, and I squirm, biting my lip to stifle an undignified moan.

  Dr. Mello gives me a stern look. “I need you to hold still.”

  The muscles in my stomach tighten, and I hold my breath.

  “It’ll be over soon, Mala,” Landry says, like he knows what the hell he’s talking about. The doc should shove her magic stick up his where-the-sun-don’t-shine. He needs to get a taste of what I’m going through. Man, this is making me all kinds of grumpy. I don’t even want to imagine going into labor. I’m feeling twitchy just thinking about it. This sucks. And hurts.

  “What’s taking so long?” Landry asks, not looking away from my face. If my expression mirrors his in any way, I must look like I’m sucking on a pickle. “Shouldn’t you see the egg yolk by now?”

  “Yes,” she says, drawing the word out between her teeth. She swivels the screen in our direction. “I should, but I don’t.”

  Landry throws a wide-eye look at me. I don’t know what she’s talking about either. All I see on the screen are white lumps. I can’t tell what internal organs they’re supposed to represent.

  She twists the wand sideways, stretching me, and I almost leap off the table from the pain. If Landry hadn’t been holding my hand, I would’ve punched her. Why isn’t she saying anything? And what happened to her earlier smile? It was false advertising in my opinion. Leading us to believe everything would be fine when clearly it’s not.

  I draw in shallow breaths and concentrate on forcing the muscles down low to unclench. The clock on the wall over the door counts down the seconds for me. I breathe in with every five ticks and release the air on the sixth.

  At the two-minute mark, Dr. Mello finally sighs. She slides the wand out of me and removes the condom, throwing it into a red biohazard bin. “How did you find out that you’re pregnant, Ms. LaCroix?”

  I can’t speak. My vaginal muscles are still quivering.

  Recognizing my discomfort, Landry answers for us. “She took a pregnancy test.”

  “Did you get the result confirmed by your obstetrician?”

  Landry shakes his head. “No, it’s only been a few days since we found out.”

  Dr. Mello removes my feet from the stirrups and adjusts the head of the table until I’m no longer lying flat on my back. She sits down on a rolling stool and starts fiddling with the hem of her coat. “I don’t know how to say this without being blunt.” Her head tilts, and she pushes her glasses up the bridge of her shiny nose. “I’m not finding any evidence of a pregnancy.”

  Landry straightens in his chair. His hand squeezes mine too hard. “What does that mean?” He rubs the tip of the scar that ends beneath his eye patch. “I know what the words mean, but what do you mean?”

  The doctor’s glasses glint from the overhead light. The glare hides any emotion she may feel. She lays a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, Ms. LaCroix. You’re not pregnant.”

  The lump in my throat lands in the pit of my stomach. Landry and I share a quick glance, and I shake my head. This doesn’t make any sense. “But I peed on the stick. It came back with two lines. That means baby-on-board, right? How could there be no evidence of the baby on the ultrasound?” I tug on Landry’s hand. “Is the test still in your pocket? Show her.”

  The doctor waves her hands. “I believe you. But those over-the-counter home pregnancy tests occasionally give a false positive. It’s rare, but it does happen for a variety of reasons.”

  I run my hands across my sore breasts. “But what about my symptoms—no period, nausea, soreness—”

  Landry blurts out, “She’s gained like ten pounds.”

  A rush of heat rises in my chest. “Is it okay if I kick him, Dr. Mello?”

  Landry crosses his legs and twists sideways in the chair. “Sorry, but it’s true. You look good with the extra weight. I’m just saying—”

  “That I’m fat.” I struggle to regain control. To understand what I’m being told. “The weight gain itself doesn’t bother me. It’s the fact that you say I’m not pregnant. That doesn’t make sense. Not that I’m upset about not being pregnant.” I point my thumb in Landry’s direction. “He was excited, but I was scared to death. Still, I had two whole days to get used to the idea of having a baby. Now to hear that I’m not…” Saints, I’m rambling.

  Am I happy or sad? Both? I don’t know what I’m supposed to think or feel right now.

  Landry stares at me, stricken, like his whole world is falling apart around him.

  I sigh. “How could this happen?”

  Dr. Mello studies my face, like she’s trying to gauge my emotional reactivity before laying anything more on a potentially unstable patient. “It’s not common to get a false pregnancy result. Most are the result of faulty tests. There’s also the possibility that this is a chemical pregnancy, in which case you miscarried the embryo prior to implantation. The hCG hormone would still be in your system. Have you had any spotting or cramps?”

  “Not that I remember.”

  I’m really not pregnant. My fingers tingle.

  “More than likely the test is at fault.”

  A cool rush of air fills my expanding lungs. The tight ball of anxiety in the pit of my stomach releases. “I did buy it at the Dollar General.”

  Dr. Mello pats my shoulder as she stands. “Next time, stop by my office
, and I’ll confirm it for you. Also, if you are actively trying to get pregnant, then I suggest you begin taking vitamins with folic acid.”

  I wrap the paper blanket around my waist and sit up. “No, we’re not, doc. This was an accident. I’m on birth control, and he’s wearing a condom every time, from now until we both decide we’re ready to have kids. Right, Landry?”

  He stares at me and then turns to the doctor with a silvery sheen to his eye. “So, she’s really not pregnant?” Pointing at the ultrasound machine he says, “Are you sure that’s not broken?” He really can’t seem to wrap his head around the idea that we’re not becoming unwed parents. At Dr. Mello’s head shake, he slumps on his stool. His hands fist in his thick hair. “Damn.”

  I lean forward, careful to keep my ankles crossed, and I wrap my arms around his shoulders. His nose presses into the corner of my shoulder. I rub my hands up and down his back. “It’s okay.”

  He shudders, then pries my fingers apart and stands up. “Yeah, it’s fine.”

  Apparently for him, it’s not. “Try to think of this as a good thing. We’re not ready to be parents.”

  The doctor unplugs the machine and pushes it toward the door. “I’ll leave you alone so Ms. LaCroix can get dressed.”

  “Thank you, Doctor.” Once she leaves, I slide off the examining table and press tissues between my legs to dry myself, then throw them into the biohazard bin. Landry stands on the other side of the room with his arms crossed. He doesn’t even look at my breasts when I shrug off the paper shirt and start to get dressed, a clear indication he’s not handling this well. “Now that we’re alone, tell me what happened.”

  “You tell me.” He blows out a harsh breath. “Do you remember what happened after you went into Dena’s room?”

  His question keys open a locked vault in my mind. Memory rushes in. “Oh my God, Dena.”

  “Do you remember now?”

  “Sophia had prepared for the ceremony before we arrived. She had a bundle of smoking herbs, and she ran it under my nose. It made my heady fuzzy.” I rub my temples. “Then I went to Dena, and like the last time, I got sucked into her head when I touched her.”

  “Do you remember taking off your clothes?”

  “What? No…Do you mean I was naked?” My voice wobbles. Merciful heavens. “Did anyone else see me besides Sophia and Magnolia? Ferdinand—”

  He shakes his head. “What about once you were inside her head?”

  I squeeze my eyes shut. “It was dark. I hid from Red while I searched for Dee.” My heart thumps, and I grin. “I remember we pulled her out.”

  “Only because my sister took her place by sacrificing herself and Red for us.”

  Oh my God, Lainey shoved Red through the door to the other side. “She’s gone?”

  “Yeah, for good this time.”

  “But Magnolia never said—”

  “A life for a life, Mala. Your aunt didn’t help you out of the goodness of her heart. She had another plan in play when I burst into the room, and I think it had something to do with why you’re no longer pregnant. I saw her put something on your stomach.” His body shakes with pent-up emotion. His head turns, and his eye scorches my skin when his gaze touches my stomach. “I think she killed our baby.”

  Light-headed, I fall back against the table. “Wait a minute…what?”

  My hands fall on my stomach, and I dig my fingers into my skin. The hollow emptiness I now feel makes sense, and the relief I felt moments ago vanishes with my confusion. A slow, burning fury builds because if our child was stolen…taken from us…then how do we get her back?

  I won’t believe she’s dead. Better to not have existed at all.

  “Mala—”

  “Let’s go.” I pull on my jeans with jerky movements. This time, they button easily. I don’t bother with my socks, just stuff them in a pocket and slip my feet into the tennis shoes.

  Landry swallows. “Is that it? That’s all you’re going to say after hearing what Magnolia’s done?”

  I calmly set my hand on the door handle. “What am I supposed to say? Do you want me to cuss her ass out? She’s not here, and I’m too exhausted to think about this right now. Let’s go check on Dee.”

  “Who cares about Dena? Our baby’s dead.”

  “I care. So do you.” I throw open the door and breath in fresh air filled with the scent of bleach and antiseptic. My head clears. I can think again. Plan. “We lost the baby because we wanted to save Dena. We have no idea if the spell worked. Or if it was just a trick on Magnolia’s part. And the only way to figure out what’s going on is to gather the evidence and confront the source. That means finding Magnolia.”

  “Or Sophia.”

  “Why do you think she’s suddenly on our side?”

  He stares over my head, then shrugs. “I think her past has come back to haunt her. Maybe this time she wants to make a different choice.”

  I shuffle from the room like a bowlegged old lady. Even my evil aunt moves faster than I do. My insides ache. Landry catches up pretty quickly and hooks his arm around my waist. His steady presence infuses me with strength and allows me to put one foot in front of the other when all I want to do is curl up into a ball and cry.

  Or go on a rampage of destruction that’ll make the Hulk look like a sissy. I sniff, rubbing my hand across my dry eyes. It’s far better to feed my helplessness into the fire pit of my anger. I can’t do anything with despair. But anger…it consumes. Burns.

  I stoke it higher.

  My back straightens. I pull free of Landry and quicken my pace.

  A spot of frigid air is my only warning. I try to flee behind the shield, but it lies in crumbled ruins within my head. Demolished, as if a sledgehammer has decimated the bricks I built over the course of the last few months, leaving me completely vulnerable to a spiritual attack. The skeletal hand shoves through the wall. Sharp fingertips score scratches down my arm as the ghost latches onto me. Contempt rolls through my body. I jerk free with a twist of my arm. My own fingers hook into claws, and I shred the wailing wraith into micro-thin filaments and whoosh it away with a wave.

  Landry stares, mouth agape. “What did you do?”

  Destroyed it. “It shouldn’t have touched me.” Guilt sours my stomach. “What happened after you came out of the trance?”

  “I don’t know. Last I remember, Pepper had come into the room. Ferdinand kept her back. She lost it when she saw what was happening. Not that I blame her. I’ve never seen anything so terrifying in my life…” He trails off as the elevator door opens on an expecting couple. We step aside and allow them to pass between us. The annoyed grimace on the woman’s face makes my lips twitch, and I watch them until they reach the nurses’ station.

  “Are you coming?” Landry asks.

  “Yeah.” I step into the elevator and lean into Landry’s side, needing to touch him. “Finish telling me what happened.”

  “When I came to, you were still unconscious. I didn’t wait around to watch the drama.”

  My fingers trace my shrinking belly again. I can’t seem to stop touching myself. Maybe there’s a dirty joke in there somewhere, but I can’t find the humor in it. The rounded contours are deflating, like a pinpricked balloon. In a few more hours, it’ll be even flatter than before my alleged pregnancy.

  “I’m scared,” I whisper.

  “Me too.”

  I usually approve of his honesty, but in this situation I would’ve preferred an “everything will be fine,” even if we both know it’s a lie.

  The door to the long-term-care unit is open. The nurse’s station and hallway are empty but for the crowd of hospital personnel, far more than just the ones who work in this unit, gathered in front of Dena’s room. They stare inside in utter silence. Tears streak many of their faces. A heavy weight fills the air like right before a hurricane hits.

  Landry and I rush forward, elbowing our way through the staff. Pepper and Dr. Estrada stand in front of Dena’s bed, blocking our view. The doctor
has his arm around Pepper as she sobs into her hands. My own eyes burn at the sight.

  I freeze in the doorway, too afraid to go inside.

  “What happened?” Landry asks, tugging my hand, and I stagger into the room. He touches the arm of a woman in scrubs. “Did she pass away?”

  The nurse wipes her eyes. “No, the opposite.”

  “She woke up?” I grasp her arm. “Is that what you’re saying? Dena woke up.”

  The woman gives a little squeal and wraps her arms around me. Her cry breaks whatever hold kept everyone still. Soon everyone’s cheering. I’ve never heard anything like it. Or expected it, given their occupation. Maybe it’s because most patients who have been declared brain dead don’t wake up let alone sit up in bed with an impish grin on their face.

  I rush forward and throw my arms around my cousin. “You’re back.”

  “Did I go somewhere?” Dena asks, arms lifting to wrap around my waist. She hugs me back weakly. She still feels so frail that I’m afraid I’ll break her. When my stomach brushes her, she pulls back. “Good grief, are you pregnant?”

  “No,” I say lightly, but my voice hitches. “I’ve been stress eating.”

  Her freckled nose scrunches. I never thought I’d see her do that again.

  Dr. Estrada shoos away the crowd. “Okay, enough. All staff needs to get back to their assigned duties. Only immediate family can remain in the room. Everyone else can visit after she finishes with the battery of tests I’m about to run.”

  Landry grabs my hand. “Come on.”

  We wind through the lingering crowd. At the end of the hallway, there’s a gurney being rolled from the room where Redford had been. A white sheet covers the body. I can’t take my eyes off it. Especially since I know he’s beneath it. I agonized about my decision. Tossed and turned nights on end, too scared to sleep, too afraid to make the wrong choice to do anything. I tried to mentally prepare myself for the soul-crushing guilt I’d feel at taking his life.

  But all it takes is glancing over my shoulder to see Dena, animatedly talking with her mother, to remind me that the asshole brought this on himself. A life for a life. Ding dong, Red’s dead. And I don’t care.