"Miss, you have to tell us your name."
"Sestra," Helena rasps, turning her head against the pillow. She wouldn't answer her level of pain so they gave her a standard dose of morphine and it keeps her pinned to the bed.
"Yes, we can call your sister as soon as you give us your name."
"Sestra?" she says again, twisting the edge of the blanket around her fingers and then plucking at her gown. She moves it aside and picks at her bandage, looking up at the nurse and indicating her wound. "Sestra."
"Okay, you need to leave the bandage where it is. If you give us a phone number or a name we can inform your family of where you are."
Helena furrows her brow at the nurse and then turns her head and looks out the window at the sky. "Sestra, sestra, sestra," she whispers on a vague tune. "Sestra, I will come for you. Don't worry sestra. I will be there soon."
The nurse gets bored and leaves, and Helena bides her time. When they try to give her another dose of morphine, she thrashes and tugs at her IV. They threaten to restrain her so she quiets, just saying, "No, no," when they ask her about pain.
When they leave again she smiles at the ceiling, and as the hospital settles into night she counts. After the nurse checks on her and she pretends to be asleep, she counts to thirty and slips out of bed. She creeps close to the wall only as far as the next room, stealing in where the patient is actually asleep and taking her clothes.
Before leaving, she steps to the head of the bed and puts her face close to the sleeping woman. "Weak," she spits. "Like a child."
Dressing behind the door, she pokes gently at her wound and hisses at the burst of pain. It makes her grin, showing all her teeth, and she sets out to find Sarah.
"I will see you soon, sestra."