Cinderella Lane

by Alicia Donovan

  “I don’t want to go back in that room! Please.”

  Cindy felt a stir in the air as Nancy rose. There was more whispered discussion over her head.

  “Cindy,” Nancy said, “there isn’t another room right now. The last one was just taken by a woman with a gunshot wound. What if someone sits with you? Would that be okay?”

  Cindy had no desire to spend the rest of the night in that room, but she had little choice. “Yes, I would appreciate the company.”

  She let Nancy help her from the floor. Cindy’s legs shook as they crossed the room, but she made it to her bed. After she settled in, Nancy righted the IV stand and made sure Cindy was comfortable. Then she pulled up a chair next to the bed.

  “Tell me exactly what happened,” Nancy said.

  Cindy told Nancy everything from the first time she woke up to the moment she screamed for help. As Cindy told the story, she realized it did sound like a dream. Why would someone call her Cinderella? Was the chuckle an echo from the hall? Could she trust her half-asleep instincts, especially since she had taken pain medicine?

  Cindy clenched her cold hands together as her insides quaked. Whatever it was, it had deeply frightened her, real or not.

  “You’ve been through a lot. Bad dreams are a common occurrence after a trauma. You lay back and rest. Everything will seem clearer in the morning.”

  Cindy nodded. “Thank you. I’m sure it will.”

  Cindy had been sure she would never sleep after her scare, but one little pink pill later, she dozed right off.

  Chapter Eleven

  The Collector had the perfect view.

  That’s what they called him. The ones that knew.

  He scanned the small, monochromatic waiting room. It held only ten chairs. Well, to be perfectly correct, it contained eight chairs and a two-seater, which equaled ten seats.

  But that was beside the point. The view was perfect. He’d chosen a chair facing down the hallway and could see Cinderella sobbing where he had left her.

  It had been a bit of a dash from her room to this seat. Once The Collector had sat and grabbed a magazine to bury his face in, he’d slowed his breathing and tried to look like every other late-night visitor. Though he probably needn’t have worked so hard as the place was empty save for one sleeping woman.

  A smile crept onto The Collector’s lips as he peeked over the top of the magazine. It was mean to play these tricks on Cinderella, but what else did he have left? They couldn’t have tea or dance the waltz for the guests. They couldn’t even pose for the pictures he charged a mint for. He had to take what he could get.

  The bleary woman sitting across the room stirred from her half-doze at his princess’ shrill cry. “Oh, poor dear,” the middle-aged woman said as she looked him over with an appreciative eye, smiled, and settled down to sleep again.

  He examined the sleeping woman and wrinkled his nose. She would never make his collection. Too old, too saggy, too rumpled. He returned his gaze to Cinderella.

  Only rare beauties and only ones with the proper titles made his collection. What people paid for just a peek at his real-life princesses. He applied the rule to himself too. If not for the name he was born with, he would never have thought to start this business. He brushed his sleeves off and ran a hand through his hair. Yes, he was every bit the prince his name proclaimed him to be.

  Prince watched a nurse help her into her room. He’d made a mistake letting her go. She was missed already. People didn’t want a new Cinderella, they wanted her. His little princess.

  Why had he thought that great dramatic display was better than keeping her? Stupid. It was stupid. Now how would he get her back?

  Chapter Twelve

  Cindy woke with a start. To one side, she heard the small bleeps of a cell phone or tablet. On the other, the clatter of someone setting her food tray on her bedside table.

  “Good morning, Cindy,” Nancy said, “How are you feeling this morning?”

  Cindy pushed herself up, ignoring the pain still stabbing at her when she moved. “Better. I think.”

  “We have someone scheduled to speak with you.” When Cindy frowned and opened her mouth to protest, Nancy went on, “You have been through a lot, it’s no wonder you are having nightmares.”

  “That’s it then. It was a nightmare?”

  Nancy patted Cindy’s hand. “This happens a lot, dear, maybe not to this extreme, but a lot. Do you still feel like it wasn’t?”

  Cindy lowered her head and mumbled, “I don’t know.”

  “Just in case and to make you feel better, I asked my nephew to sit with you. Is that okay? I’m need to go home and get some sleep, and the other nurses have a few handfuls today.”

  Cindy winced as she imagined being the talk of the nurse’s station. She was sure she was one of those handfuls. But she nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, that’s fine. I really appreciate it.”

  “Okay then, this is Aaron,” Nancy said with pride.

  “Hello,” Aaron said, his deep voice surprising Cindy. She’d expected a boy, maybe a teen from the bleeps of the phone, but Aaron must be older than she thought. Well, some boys got their man voices early, and she didn’t care how old he was as long as he took his job of lookout seriously.

  Cindy smiled his way. “Thank you so much for doing this.”

  “It’s fine. I owe Aunt Nancy a whole lot more than this. Helping you out is an easy gig.” He chuckled. His happy laugh warmed her to him. “Besides, it’s Saturday, so I’m free.”

  Saturday. That meant she’d been here two days? But she wasn’t positive, everything was still foggy.

  Cindy went to ask Nancy, but the nurse bustled over and rearranged her blankets, asking, “Anything else I can get you before I go?”

  Cindy waved Nancy out. Nancy sounded tired, and her question could wait. “No. Please, go home and rest. You certainly deserve it.”

  “I leave you in Aaron’s capable hands then.”

  Nancy padded out of the room, and there was a minute of awkward silence before Aaron said, “Well, we can just sit here in silence or we could play a game. I brought one I think we can make work.”

  “Sounds like fun. What did you bring?”

  “Yahtzee. I didn’t know your game skill level so…”

  Cindy laughed. “It’s perfect.”

  Aaron moved everything off her bed tray and opened the game on it. The dice clicked as they rolled onto the board, and Cindy eagerly anticipated playing the game. It seemed like a long time since she’d played a board game.

  Aaron picked up the dice and rolled just one across the board. “Okay. I go first, but I will be a gentleman if you would like to start.”

  “No, please, you go,” Cindy said with a small giggle. The more Aaron talked the more she liked him.

  Aaron got three fives and marked it on the scoresheet. At least that was what he told Cindy. She realized he could say anything, but she didn’t think he would cheat. Aaron seemed like an honest person to her.

  When Aaron rolled Cindy’s turn and told her she’d gotten a full house, it confirmed her instincts. He was hardly cheating if she was beating him.

  The next time Cindy’s turn came around, Aaron clattered all the dice into the cup and said, “I’m not sure why I shook it last time. I’m sure you can handle that.”

  Cindy smiled and nodded. Aaron tapped the back of her hand with the cup, and she took it from him. She shook it with some force then reached for the edge of the board to roll them. Cindy thought she had it all lined up when Aaron stopped her.

  “Whoa there, too close to the edge.”

  Aaron took Cindy’s hand and pulled it his way a little. “There you go.”

  Cindy jumped at Aaron’s touch. She had expected no more than a teenager’s hands, but the fingers lightly touching her were long, much longer than hers and callused. This was not a teen, he was a man.

  “I’m sorry,” Aaron said, his voice sounding concerned, “did I frighten you?”

  Cind
y shook herself. “No. No, I’m sorry. For some reason, I thought you were a teenager, so I… well, it seems you are not.”

  He laughed. “No, not for a while now. Should I have described myself? I’m afraid I don’t know the etiquette.”

  “No apologies, and I don’t either. They tell me this is temporary.” Cindy waved her hand toward her eyes.

  “Well, it puts you at a disadvantage. You can’t see anyone to size them up.”

  “Tell me what I would see then.”

  Aaron cleared his throat. “Well, I’m on the tall side. Six two. Kinda lanky, but not without strength. I mean I could knock out anyone who tried to come after you.” Cindy heard the pride and then slight embarrassment in his voice. “I mean, well, you know what I mean.”

  Cindy solemnly nodded. Size was good. It would deter anyone that may come in here to make trouble.

  “I have dark hair and brown eyes. Not that it matters in taking down bad guys.”

  “Your fingers are callused. What do you do for work?”

  “I’m in construction.” Pride rang through his voice. “A noble profession.”

  “I’ve always thought so. I enjoy watching something I helped build being lived in or worked in. It’s not what I want to do for my entire working life, but I’m happy to do it now.”

  “I’m a paralegal. I don’t see much joy from the digital papers I shuffle.” Cindy laughed.

  “Did this happen to you on your way home from work?”

  Aaron’s question surprised Cindy. She hadn’t guessed he would ask anything about her attack. “I—I think so. I have head trauma. My memory isn’t so good right now.”

  “So, you don’t know what happened?”

  “Just what I’ve been told. I was stabbed, found on a bed of broken glass.” Cindy lowered her head and quietly said. “It’s really hard for me to talk about. Could we not?”

  “Of course. I’m sorry.” Aaron was quick to assure her, but he sounded disappointed.

  Cindy relaxed once they returned to their game, happy that Aaron was here. He calmed her stretched nerves.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The day nurse brought Cindy and Aaron a tray. She gave Cindy her meds, fiddled with the IV, and reminded her patient of a couple tests she had scheduled this afternoon.

  “I’m Rose. I’ll be helping you today.”

  "Oh, such a pretty name!"

  "Thank you." Rose chuckled. "My mom's little joke."

  "Really, why?"

  "Well, our last name is Briar. So, Rose Briar, kinda a twist on Briar Rose, the fairy tale."

  Cindy smiled. "That's so cute! I love it."

  But as Cindy gushed over Rose's name, a strange sense of foreboding filled her. Why she would feel frightened, she couldn't say, and as Rose left the room, Cindy tried to shake the feeling. How could she believe herself about what happened last night, if a name set her off? Perhaps Nancy was right, and it was a nightmare. Maybe her own instincts weren't to be trusted right now.

  "You okay?"

  Aaron's question shook Cindy back to the present. "Sorry, just thinking." She waved her hand over the food tray. "If you would plop the inevitable fruit cup or pudding in my hand and a fork or spoon, I can take care of the rest."

  They spent the rest of the meal in small talk. Aaron told her about the weather, what Nancy looked like, and they talked about work. Cindy laughed so hard, she cried at his amazingly funny stories.

  When she put a hand to her stomach, Aaron stopped. "Are you all right? I went too far."

  "No, I'm fine, but my stomach is beginning to hurt."

  "Okay. Less funny, more serious stories."

  Cindy giggled when Aaron's tone turned somber as he launched into another tale.

  Someone cleared their throat.

  Aaron stopped mid-sentence. "It's the police," he whispered to her.

  Cindy didn't know whether to be happy or anxious. Had they found her attacker? Or did they want more information she didn't remember? She rushed to put down the fruit cup she still held in her hand and made a mess of it. At least one thing on the food tray fell, if not more. When Cindy's hands fluttered over the plate, Aaron assured her he'd take care of it.

  The police walked closer, their shoes tapping across the floor. One officer introduced them. "I'm Officer Branson, and this is Officer Wilderson. I'm sorry it took so long for us to get here to you. It has, unfortunately, been a rough week. But we are here now, so can we ask you a few questions?"

  Cindy knitted her brow. "But you were here before, weren't you?"

  Officer Branson hesitated. "We — we came when you were brought in, but you were semi-conscious and unable to answer questions. That was Thursday evening. Yesterday… we couldn't make it."

  Still confused, Cindy frowned, but she didn't question them.

  Officer Branson did all the talking while Officer Wilderson only coughed from time to time. As Cindy suspected she had no answers for many of their questions. She twisted her hands in her lap. "I'm sorry. I'm not any more helpful with you than I was with the detective."

  Benson began to say, "We understand, ma'am, when someone has been through—" He stopped, and asked, "What detective?"

  "Detective Pearson. He came yesterday asking pretty much the same questions you've just asked me.”

  The officers murmured together. Then Branson said, "Ms. Ellerd, I don't have down that a detective came to question you."

  "He did. Detective Pearson. He was a very nice man, he really comforted me about the whole situation. Perhaps someone just forgot to make a notation?"

  "There is no Detective Pearson in our precinct."

  A chill slid over Cindy's spine as the two detectives once again whispered with one another.

  "Well, you know," Officer Branson said, "this hospital sits on two precincts. Maybe someone in the other one showed up here. Yeah, that's probably it. It's happened before. We heard they had a new detective. Haven't met him yet, though."

  Cindy's fear dissipated. See there, it was nothing, nothing at all.

  The officers prepared to leave. "Okay well, that's it for today. I'm afraid we don't have many leads, but we are following all we have."

  Cindy hesitated to tell them about last night, but on the chance it was not her imagination she wanted them to know. "I think — someone was in this room last night."

  The officers were instantly alert, and Benson barked out his question, “What happened?"

  Cindy explained to them, even though she felt more and more unsure about the event. There was just so little to really tell them. No proof of any kind.

  "Well, Ms. Ellerd. I want to assure you it would be very rare for the person who did this to track you to the hospital and continue to harass you. So, I don't think you need to worry about that."

  "How rare?"

  "I've been a police officer for over fifteen years, and I've never had that experience on any of my cases."

  In an instant, the weight laying on Cindy's shoulders lifted.

  "It was probably a trick of your hearing," Officer Branson said, "or a nightmare. Rest easy. You're in good hands here."

  The officers ended their visit and made their way out of Cindy's room. She waited until their tapping footsteps disappeared down the hallway. Her mouth twisted in disappointment. "I really wish they had more to go on, it sounds as if they have no leads at all. And I'm of no help."

  Aaron patted her shoulder. "Give it time. They may have more than they're saying."

  Cindy nodded, but she was becoming less and less confident they would find her attacker.

  Chapter Fourteen

  That afternoon, Cindy's medical tests went well. The knife wounds were mending as expected, and none of her many cuts had become infected. Her memory seemed no better, but the doctor assured her it would be nearly impossible to tell when they would come back and gave her a few suggestions to try.

  Cindy smiled as she was wheeled back to her room, happy the news was as good as possible at this point. Aaron a
lerted her to his presence as soon as she arrived, and Nurse Rose helped settle Cindy in a chair until dinner with the gentle way she had about her.

  Sitting in the chair seemed strange, even though it had only been two days since Cindy had been here. Each day's improvement strengthened her, physically and emotionally. An extra lilt entered her voice as she and Aaron returned to their game of Yahtzee. Before she knew it, Nancy's shift began.

  Nancy bustled around Cindy as she talked. "Don't worry, dear. I've arranged to be with you again tonight. You're a special guest here, so if you need me to stay, the other nurses will understand."

  "And I can stay longer if needed," Aaron offered.

  Cindy put a hand to her embarrassed face. "Thank you both for catering to my scary-cat nature. But Aaron, you've stuck with me all day, I'm sure you have plenty of other things to do besides babysitting me. I will try being a bit braver this evening."

  "How about tomorrow? I'm still off work."

  Cindy smiled. He was so kind to think of her. "If you would like to visit me, I would very much look forward to it."

  "I'll be here tomorrow then."

  "Thank you."

  As Aaron left, Nancy wrapped the blood pressure cuff around Cindy's arm. "I'm glad you and Aaron got along."

  "Oh yes, how could we not?" Aaron's squeaky shoes halted at the doorway, and Cindy heard the rumble of two male voices but was unable to listen to what they said. Aaron came back to the bed, the other man in tow.

  "Look who is here, Cindy," Aaron said, "Detective Pearson. I bumped into him at the door."

  "Hello, Detective," Nancy said with a smile in her voice, "nice to see you again."

  "Oh, Detective," Cindy said, "you just missed the other police officers."

  Detective Pearson took Cindy's hand and gently shook it. "It's good to see you smiling, Cindy. Now, who are these officers you mentioned?"