Within minutes there was knocking on the door, and Megan left to unlock it, shooing the female doctor in, who was dressed in a traditional white coat while a medium-sized black briefcase, a red cross sticker on both of its sides.
“Please turn all the lights on,” the medical professional instructed Megan before she caught sight of Paula and hurried towards her. Megan flubbed a bit, before turning on all the lights. The doctor took one cold look at the junkie, covering her eyes, only peeking glances through her fingers in the light at her niece’s wound.
She was not going to be useful, the doctor decided, opening her briefcase. One pair of scissors and a few moments later she had cut open the young woman’s shirt, examining the wound. Reaching into her first aid bag, she took out a large gauze, glancing at the injury again. Without a word, she pressed down the gauze hard on Paula’s wound.
The young woman finally screamed. The doctor winced but did not let up the pressure. “Sorry, there is needed to prevent blood loss. I will give you a painkiller now, but you’ll have to bear with it.” Two capsules of an unnamed painkiller went into Paula’s mouth, her head being lifted by her aunt. She dryly swallowed.
“The ambulance will be here soon.” Unphased at the sight of blood, the woman began to clean and temporarily dress Paula’s wound, ignoring Megan hovering around her.
“Is she going to be fine, doctor?” Megan asked.
“She needs a proper examination. My job is to keep her alive until then. Rest assured, we will do all we can,” the doctor replied. In all her career she had encountered a case such as Paula’s. “Was she attacked by someone?”
“I have no idea,” said Megan.
“So, you are saying she got what looks like a bullet wound in this room, without anyone entering?” the doctor, whose name no one had bothered asking, looked at the closed windows as if checking to see if someone had shot the victim from there.
As the paramedics arrived to take Paula away, the young woman noticed that the doctor’s white coat had the name Marzia on the front pocket, before she passed out.
• • •
When she came to, Paula could tell she was in a hospital from the sterile smell of disinfectants. She was impartial to it, neither liking nor disliking it and often found people who hated it expending an unnecessary amount of energy to complain about it. Turning her head to the side, she noted her aunt sitting on a sofa, dozed off.
Paula was situated in a VIP room, hooked to an IV, slowly dripping a solution into her veins. How much blood had she lost? Paula wondered. Her thoughts then traveled back to her dream.
The tables were turned, and Paula did not realize it until the last moment. She had always wondered if there were other people with an ability like hers, but after she had managed to gain control of it to some extent, she had grown arrogant, unable to believe that someone else could share her ability. Another realization came to her; the dream containing herself and Jose where their flight crashed, was it hers or Gianluca’s?
Paula glanced at her aunt again, who had been hoping to leave Italy soon. Now her niece was injured, and the plans inevitably delayed.
Gianluca Bianchi had shot her in his dream. If he could kill her in her the realm beyond sleep, then changing countries was useless. She had glimpses of him in her dreams while in New York, and in Rome, she had become a part of his dream.
Would Gianluca know that Paula survived? Anger filled her when she recalled what he said about Megan. The man was a self-proclaimed avenger, stopping at nothing for an act of revenge he did not elaborate on. He was a power trip, Paula surmised. Not telling people made him feel even more superior, further stroking his own ego inside his bubble.
But from meeting him, Paula had gathered one thing, that his greatest strength and weakness were one and the same. The man was alone. He felt wronged by the world and was taking it out on everyone else. If he continued living the way he did, Gianluca would meet a miserable end to his life.
Perhaps, though, he was prepared for it.
• • •
Jose Sanchez was sitting in his bedroom after a long day at work. He loved helping his patients get better, but his clients could be exhausting at times. Some days, you just had to sit back and relax, have a chilled can of beer or three, before getting back to life.
This was just what Jose was doing, sitting on his bed in nothing but boxers with an ice-cold can of beer in his hand, and two more on his bedside table, waiting in a bowl of ice. His laptop, TV, and phone were all powered off, freeing him from the outside world.
But it was not in any food or drink what he desired.
Jose’s thoughts kept drifting back to Paula Lindsay. He had tried to download and play some video games on his laptop. He had tried to read several books. He had spent an extra hour at the gym. But ever since Ms. Lindsay had left for Italy, he could not feel complete.
Jose Sanchez, who was thought to remain a bachelor for the rest of his life, deeply missed a woman. He knew he had fallen hard for Paula. She had been gone for three days now, and the psychologist was already wondering whether or not he should take a vacation as well and book a flight to Italy.
The most unbearable part would come at night when he would have to sleep alone. It was baffling.
Jose had slept alone for years, occasionally cuddling with a fling or two, but those relationships never panned out into anything. Was it something about mental connection, that cuddling with Paula was more pleasurable than actually sleeping with any other woman?
She was unique, from the scientific point of view as well. That was what had first piqued his interest, and then Paula herself became interesting, capturing his attention.
“Maybe I should call her,” he spoke to himself. Or perhaps that was the beer talking, considering the bills he would accrue due to international airtime. He had not yet added her on any internet app, only calling and messaging her as needed, holding all conversations in person over their dates. The limited online interaction they had made the time spent in person all the sweeter.
Jose did not want to lose that. This was another factor in why he had not tried to contact Paula, not even asking her if her flight had landed safely; he just kept an eye on the news in case of any airline reports.
As he lay there, popping open his last can of beer, an idea slowly began to worm its way through his tipsy mind. He played with it for a while, before sitting up straight. This was it, just what he needed. Then another thought came into his head, and Jose panicked, picking up his smartphone. A few unbearable seconds passed as he pressed its side-button and waited for it to turn on.
“Come on, come on,” he said, flipping through his long list of contacts until he landed on Paula. Tapping it, he searched her information to find that he indeed had her email. Phew.
Jose Sanchez was going to write an old-fashioned letter. Although he would send it via email, those were semantics. Noting down her email in case his alcohol affected brain forgot, Jose turned his phone off again to reduce his chances of getting distracted by it.
A draft. He needed to make a draft first. Feeling uplifted about his plan, Jose scrambled to find a pencil and some paper.
• • •
“Paula, are you up?” Megan had bloodshot eyes, unable to properly sleep. Her baby pink t-shirt and trousers were crinkled, and there were tear tracks on her cheeks. Paula’s heart took a dip at sight.
Megan shifted and got up, walking over to Paula’s bed, laying her hand on hers, taking care to not disturbed her IV needle.
“Yes, aunt. Sorry for worrying you,” Paula replied. Her body was numb, probably from painkillers, and her mouth felt as dry as cotton. “What did the doctors say?”
“You were sent for an X-Ray and some blood tests. They gave you a tetanus shot as well. It’s like a gunshot wound, except,” Megan paused, biting her thumbnail, “How could you have been shot? The door was locked
, and I would have noticed if someone shot you while I was in the room, and the windows were closed, so the glass would have shattered if it was some long-range assassination attempt – “
“Calm down aunty,” Paula said, turning her palm around to gently hold the woman’s hand. “I know how it happened. The doctors will never believe me.”
“What, you do? What happened?” Megan nearly shouted.
“Keep your voice down, Meg!” Paula hissed. “It’s not helping matters.” Megan could not get a handle on her emotions. She couldn’t tell her that she had met her father and her grandfather’s killer in her dream.
“Sorry love, but you know how I feel. We should have never come to this country in the first place.”
Paula couldn’t help it. She snickered. Megan looked at her niece, like she had grown another head.
“Changing countries would never have mattered. Coming to Italy was the right decision,” Paula said, before reaching for the controls on the side of her bed, shifting herself up. “Can I have some water?”
“Of course, dear.” Megan got up, handing her a bottle of mineral water from the small fridge the VIP room had, before fiddling with the controls of the bed to put her niece in a better posture than she had managed by herself.
“Thanks, aunt Meg.” Paula let the cold water hydrate her throat, slowly gulping it down. Megan took her place back at the sofa against the wall to Paula’s left.
“What did you mean by saying that coming to Italy was the right decision, after what just happened?” Megan began. Although Paula had been through something traumatic, she knew her niece was tough as nails, able to keep rolling while taking blows.
“Dreams cannot be limited by the distance between two individuals. This was bound to happen sooner or later,” Paula sighed. Megan had a confused look on her face, unable to decipher what Paula was telling her.
“What you do mean, it was bound to happen sooner or later?”
“I was shot in a dream, aunty,” Paula nearly whispered.
“You have got to be kidding me. This never happened before.” Some deep-rooted instinct kept Megan from completing her real thoughts that Paula’s dreams had never physically hurt her before she got involved with Dr. Jose Sanchez and started exploring the “dream realm” as the two called it.
“It would have happened whether I liked it or not. Turns out, I am not the only person in the world with this power.” Megan was speechless, the protest she had prepared on the tip of her tongue getting lost. Paula took the chance to carry on, “There is no escape from this. I have to defeat that man. Do you know of someone called Gianluca?”
“Gianluca? I can’t say I’ve heard of anyone like that. Was he the one who shot you in your dream?” Megan spoke fast. “God, this is ridiculous. Since when did our lives turn into some sci-fi movie?” She held her head in her hands, fingers burrowing into her scalp.
“Was there any way out? Whose fault was it? Why were all these things happening to them?” she thought.
“Why are all these things happening to us?” Paula repeated, and Megan realized she had been speaking out loud. The reality was a haze at times, even she was off drugs. “It’s no use complaining about why things happen to us, aunty. Why don’t you ever question why you’ve been living the high life? Why you can have everything you want at the swipe of a credit card? If you aren’t going to question your fortunes, then don’t you dare question your misfortunes.”
It was a harsh thing to say, but much needed. Megan’s escapism from her problems had turned her into a junkie in the first place. With her injured as she was, Paula couldn’t risk Megan relapsing.
It didn’t matter if they were in another country, drug dealers around the globe spoke the same language – money. If you had money, they would get whatever you wanted, and the look on Megan’s face suggested that she would like nothing more than to send her mind to oblivion.
“Sorry. I complain a lot, don’t I? Such a worthless aunt you have,” Megan lamented.
“No, I have a wonderful aunt. She just needs a kick in the ass every now and then,” Paula said. She was feeling sleepy again but decided to check her phone one more time to inform her secretary that her vacation would be longer than expected. Her wound would make it difficult to get discharged quickly, and she had no idea if she was allowed to fly or not, on top of the injury being a total bitch.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Megan said dryly, not entirely convinced.
“Did you bring my phone?” Paula changed the subject. “I wanted to check a couple of emails, send an update about my current condition.”
“Yes, I grabbed it at the last moment. The hotel manager assured me that they would be supporting our medical expenses, seeing as this incident happened in their hotel, by the way,” Megan added, finally remembering other things now that the danger had passed. “The doctors also said you would make a full recovery.”
“Did they? Do tell me, what do they think happened?”
Megan fumbled around in her handbag, which was located on the small table, before handing Paula her phone.
The young millionaire unlocked the screen, and scanning for the Wi-Fi, revealed her room to have a signal. “The perks of being a VIP,” Paula thought as she connected to it.
Firing off a rapid email to her secretary at Lindsay Corporation, Paula checked her inbox one last time, not really hoping to read anything other than the subjects, but one message seized her attention.
Dear Paula, it only said. It was from Jose. Paula stared at the screen for a moment, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts. Did he somehow know what had happened to her? Why was this message coming now of all times, when she had been in Italy for more than three days?
“Did something happen at the company, darling?” Megan spoke, noticing Paula just staring at the screen.
“A-ah, no. I just got a message...” She tapped it open, only to be greeted with a blank message, and one document attached titled with today’s date. Confused, Paula opened the document, unveiling a wall of text formatted like a plain old-fashioned letter.
For a moment, she giggled. Megan gave her a funny look but went back to the sofa to catch a couple of more Z’s. Paula had not asked about the details of her wound yet, and Megan was happy to not explain the damage unless she was asked.
Paula began to read the letter, hearing Jose’s smooth baritone with each word she read.
“Dear Paula. How are you? I send you my best wishes and hopes that you are in the best of health.”
Paula exhaled humorously through her nose. Yes, she was in the best of health indeed. Come to think of it, what was the name of the hospital she was in? Her aunt was gently snoring, so she couldn’t ask her either. Whenever a nurse would walk in then, she supposed.
“I thought I would write a letter to you. Forgive any errors I make, because this is the first letter I have written for any woman, let alone one as intelligent as you.”
Well, now he was just flattering her. Nonetheless, Paula felt warm and fuzzy inside.
“I have been fine as well. Okay, not really. At the end of every day, I wonder if we could grab some drinks together, or head out for dinner in the evening. Every night I wish you were beside me, just to hold as I fall asleep. I miss you.”
Now Paula was blushing. Was it good for her to read something that was accelerating her heart rate? She carried on anyway.
“But enough about me. How have you been? What kind of people have you found, what type of food have you eaten, what kind of place are you staying at, what kind of clothes have you been wearing?”
Paula had a Facebook account for business purposes, but nothing like Instagram. She was fonder of making memories than taking pictures, other than an occasional selfie. A lot of Jose’s questions could have been answered had she been an avid social media user, but she wasn’t. It hampered productivity no matter what people said.
Perhaps that was what made this special. This exchange was happening, an old-fashioned tradition aided by modern technology because the two of them were just not followers of the crowd.
She continued reading Jose’s letter, him detailing his own travels in Italy, how it was one of the first countries he visited, and the last one where he made the mistake of being part of a tourist group because “They only let you see what they think you have come to see.”
In the end, was a small phrase that tugged at her heartstrings, causing her to smile.
“Come back soon. My heart yearns for you. Love, Jose Sanchez.”
Paula turned off her screen and felt absolutely giddy. She was tired and sleepy and decided to sleep after a moment of contemplation. If Gianluca wanted to finish her off, he would have to be sleeping as well, and Paula doubted he’d be sleeping in the morning.
Not known to her was the fact that after that one, powerful period of staying awake, she would be flitting in and out of consciousness for the better part of next week, doctors hurrying to check up on her whenever she woke because Megan would get thoroughly scolded for not informing anyone about the first time Paula woke up.
She was a tough woman but got reminded that exceeding limits always had its consequences.
The doctors also tried to get her to confess to something to no avail, and Paula snapped when they thought that Megan had shot her while she slept. The middle-aged woman sputtered, floundering for an answer while Paula’s glare turned icy towards the one who had asked that question.
“Did you even find any bullet?” she asked tersely during one confrontation.
“Well, no, Ms. Lindsay. Fine, we will let the matter rest at your insistence.” The doctor was a senior, experienced individual with a full head of grey hair and natural teeth, wearing no glasses. Paula noticed he had a very pinched mouth like he had bitten a lemon. “I hope you understand all the risks you are taking. Good day.”
Paula was not be discharged before another week. Her wound had been stitched up, she had been given a tetanus shot, and was also started on a course for antibiotics.
The Family Secret Page 17
