Janelle floated in and out of consciousness. Her mind peeled back the bits and pieces of events she could remember: spotting Boris and being glad to see him for the first time in her life, her vision blurring, and then everything going black. Then… Snippets of conversation.
As she began to float toward the surface of wakefulness, she wiggled her toes, pleased to find that her feet moved easily. She could have sworn she had been handcuffed by one ankle to the bedrail of the hospital bed she lay in.
Don't think like that, she chided herself. You're just being paranoid. They are not lying to you. You were a victim, and they simply want to help you. They need your testimony. Henri is no longer around, so you need to be her voice. That's all. Then you'll get on with your life. You may not know where or how, but you will.
But as quickly as she began to swim upward, the darkness engulfed her once again, and she sank down into it.
Those strange snippets of conversation again... What sounded like Boris asking a doctor or a nurse if there was any way she could be faking it... being told that, no, she likely wasn't faking it because amnesia was common in people in her case... Boris asking if she could fake being asleep... and then being shown what to look for on beeping monitors.
Faking it? Why would I want to fake anything?
Again her suspicions threatened to overwhelm her, and once more, she had to scold herself for simply being paranoid because she had been lied to before. Certainly, he wouldn't be that cruel. No one in law enforcement would be, would they? After all I've gone through? With nothing but accusations and no proof that I was Deanna and Ramona’s attacker? With no proof that I had been trying to abscond?
Nah, she told herself. They wouldn't do that to you. They're not gonna charge you with absconding. They're not going to charge you with assault either. They're going to scrap the few months you had left on the old charges and help you get through this while you help nail the bastards responsible. As much as it sucks to lose Henrietta, this could actually be a good thing. Maybe this was meant to happen so that you would have people to help you start anew.
Janelle did everything she could to tamp down her paranoia and the little voice in her head that told her she was kidding herself and a fool to put her trust in anyone in law enforcement, no matter how much her testimony might be needed. Henri was dead. Nothing could bring her back or anyone else who had lost their lives in the siege. She wasn't going to throw away her freedom just to testify. She was much too selfish for that. She had to be. That survival instinct that dwelled in everyone urged her to consider her own self-preservation before anything or anyone else.
Janelle continued flitting in and out of consciousness. When she once again became semi-conscious, she could have sworn she heard hushed, urgent whispering and then felt someone scurrying to remove something from her ankle. Based on the weight of it and the clicking sounds she heard, her first thought was that she hadn't been imagining being cuffed by the ankle to the bed after all, and that the desperate whispers and hurried removal of the cuffs were so that she wouldn't awaken to find she'd been lied to yet again and then refuse to testify.
No! I will not allow myself to think that way. I must think positively. They wouldn't bullshit me over something so serious. Besides, how would they expect to get others in a similar situation to trust them if they did? They certainly can't go around bullshitting everybody. Now stop being so damn paranoid!
"I wish she would hurry up and wake up already," Boris said with impatience and a definite lack of empathy and compassion in his voice. "I can't be here round the clock, and I want my face to be the first one she sees when she comes around."
What? Why? For comfort, she told herself. He simply doesn’t want you freaking out to find a stranger hovering over you, that’s all.
A female voice giggled. "You're mean. Handsome, but mean."
As much as she didn't want to wake up and face reality, Janelle couldn't fight the forces that were pulling her to the surface of life. But then she may as well wake up, face whatever was ahead of her, and get on with life since she'd already heard that she couldn't fake it anyway—not that she wanted to.
"Wake up, sleepyhead," she heard a female voice say, whom she assumed was a nurse. "We can see you're coming to."
Janelle moaned and turned her head from side to side. Her head felt like it was filled with lead, and her eyelids slowly fluttered open.
And just as Boris said he wanted, his was the first face she saw. There was no mistaking that slight but obvious smug grin that tugged at the corners of his lips. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of thinking he got to her, Janelle slowly returned the smile.
Boris dropped his smile and backed away as if disappointed. This only deepened Janelle's suspicions about his true intentions, but once again, she lectured herself for not giving him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe there was nothing behind the smirk and look of disappointment. Maybe these were simply his usual expressions.
Then a young, black nurse came into view as she hovered above her. "How are you feeling?"
Janelle stuttered, "I—I don't really know. Is everything okay? Am I still alive?"
"You're still alive, yes."
"Am I in a hospital?"
"That you are, ma'am."
"Where is my husband?" Janelle asked, then added, "I could have sworn I saw Boris, but he left before I could let him know I was awake."
Janelle heard her probation officer step forward, although she still couldn't see him from where he stood. "Yeah, I'm here."
"Where is Steven?"
"We contacted him. We can't let anyone know where you are, of course, but he's aware of the situation," Boris replied.
"Is he okay?"
"As far as I know."
"What's wrong with me? Why do I feel so weak?"
The nurse loomed overhead once again. "The doctor will be in to talk to you in a few minutes."
"Okay, thank you."
"M-hmm, she said before she was gone.
"How long have I been here?" she asked Boris
"Just a little over a few days."
"Oh my God, you must be missing so much work,” Janelle said.
"Yeah, that's the breaks sometimes."
"I feel so bad for putting you through this, but I'm also so grateful to you and Rick for saving me. Where is Rick, anyway?"
"He's around."
"Your clients must wonder where in the world you are."
Boris snorted. "They’re being taken care of."
"Thank you for sticking by me through this and getting me the hell out of there."
"It was mostly the FBI and the local forces that did the actual rescuing."
"I remember a horrible smell, and then everybody started running, so I followed them, and the next thing I knew, I was outside. The outdoors never seemed so wonderful."
"Yeah, I'll bet."
"Where are the others?" Janelle asked.
"Well, not everyone made it out."
"That's too bad. I hope all the cult members have been rounded up."
"Unfortunately, two of them are at large," Boris said, sticking to the script.
"So that's why no one can know where I am?"
"Yeah, pretty much."
"What happens if they find me? Will someone be here looking out for me?"
"Yeah, you'll have round-the-clock guards, Janelle."
"That's good to know. It's one thing to feel like a bowling ball hit me and another not to feel safe on top of it."
Boris said nothing and Janelle still couldn't help but fight the feeling that something was off. She may never have been Boris’s favorite person, but he still came off as lacking in empathy and compassion. She knew he was naturally more on the serious side, but there was just something about his demeanor that made her feel like a criminal rather than a victim. She didn't like it one bit, but she was still determined to do her best to ignore her paranoia and give people the benefit of the doubt.
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