Hello! Thank you all for the kind reviews :) I'm back with chapter 10, which ended up being a lot longer than I anticipated. Although to be honest, when I finished this chapter I realized I could end the story here. I would definitely love to keep writing and I have some plans for more, but I also want to make sure I'm doing the characters justice. So if you want to see more, please let me know! Otherwise, I'll just float on home to Addek-land...not there is a bad place to be either :)
**the middle of this chapter is rated M for physical abuse**
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Chapter 10
March, 2012
Los Angeles, California
It was difficult for Alina to tell what hurt worse: the pounding in her head, the stabbing in the right side of her chest with every deep breath, or the searing bright light that threatened to burn her eyes from their sockets. All she knew was pain, and that she was in a lot of it.
Her mouth was desert dry, and every muscle in her body felt as if it were weighed down by cement.
What happened?
Where was she?
She felt her eyes begin to water from the persistent hammering against her skill, as she tried her best to listen to her surroundings. A soft beeping sound came from her left; a heart monitor.
She was in the hospital.
Except this time, she was the patient.
Her other question remained unanswered: what was she doing here?
Silently, she began to count upwards in her head, vowing that once she got to five she would try to open her eyes once more.
One.
She tried with all her strength to move a finger. Nothing.
Two.
Other finger. Still nothing.
Three.
Her lip twitched.
Four.
This time her right index finger.
Five.
The fluorescent light burned her eyes once more as she blinked rapidly, willing her pupils to adjust. It was impossible for Alina to tell if anyone was in the room with her, although she didn't assume so. After all, she had no one in LA; no family, no best friend. Who would be here to sit with her?
Her lips parted, and a soft groan released from deep within her throat.
Suddenly, an even softer female voice said her name.
"Alina?"
The voice was kind, and in her altered state seemed angelic, even. Like so long as this voice existed, all would be alright with the world.
Alina tried to speak, but still she remained unable to formulate words. She let out another moan.
A warm hand grabbed on to hers, presumably belonging to the voice.
"Alina," the woman said again, this time with a deeper, more emotional sound to her voice.
Once her eyes adjusted, the first thing Alina saw was a flash of red hair.
"Addison?" she whispered, without even thinking twice. Although it came out sounding more like ahh-son.
"Oh thank god," the woman who was Addison breathed. "You're okay."
Alina assumed Addison said this to reassure her, but at the same time it sounded too as if she were comforting herself.
"What…?" she started, trying her best to ask what happened. Her short-term memory was a blank canvass. The last thing she recalled was getting called to examine Dr. Bennett's heart failure patient, Gloria, and her unborn baby. She had no clue how long ago that was.
"You're here at St. Ambrose Hospital," Addison continued. "You had a couple broken ribs and some internal bleeding near your spleen, so they had to go in and stop it." Alina could hear Addison swallow, trying to keep her voice calm. Still, if the injury was in her abdomen, why did her head feel like it was being sawed in half?
"My head…" Alina breathed, watery eyes finally focusing on Addison. Addison scooted closer, and it wasn't until now that Alina realized the older woman had been holding her hand the entire time.
"Honey, you suffered a pretty severe concussion," Addison told her gently. Alina felt Addison's thumb rubbing back and forth against her hand, almost subconsciously. She barely even processed the fact that this woman who, a few months ago, was a total stranger to Alina just called her honey.
"When I found you, you were...you were unconscious," Addison said. "What's the last thing you remember?"
Alina tried to think back, focus on something, anything, that could have happened after her case with Dr. Bennett. Normally she would have talked to the family. Done the follow-up charting. Gone home.
All of that was a blur.
A wave of nausea passed through her and as she opened her mouth, she vomited down the front of her gown, startling Addison.
"Okay, it's okay," she soothed, reaching for the bin on the bedside table. But Alina knew she wasn't okay. The pain in her head increased tenfold, a blinding, numbing pain. The room began to spin as Alina heard Addison shout "somebody page Neuro now!" before everything went dark once more.
September, 2011
Boston, Massachusetts
"I'm truly sorry there's nothing more I can do for you, Dr. Levin," came the voice on the other side of the phone, as Alina paced in the middle of the living room, hands shaking as she held a copy of her birth certificate.
"Please, call me Alina. You're sure there's no other information you have on file you can show me?" she pressed, feeling the frustration build in her chest.
"I'm sorry," came the reply. An older woman, a nun named Sister Eleanor from the House of the Sisters of the Holy Cross in New York City. The orphanage-turned-group-home Alina had been adopted out of in 1983. "I wish there was more I could do. But we have strict confidentiality rules here to protect the child and the birth parents that I can't just disregard on a whim. Some birth parents choose to leave their full information available on a birth certificate, others leave it to the discretion of the adoptive parents."
"But do you know her?" Alina knew no matter how many questions she asked, this was getting her nowhere. Still, she pushed on. No amount of impoliteness was too much if it meant finding her family.
"I'm-"
Alina cut her off. "Please do not apologize again. I just need a little more to go on."
"Unless you have a court order, my hands are tied," Sister Eleanor said. "What's on your birth certificate is what we can give you. Perhaps try discussing this further with your parents?"
"No," Alina exhaled. "My parents aren't...they're not available to discuss it."
"Well, then…" the nun replied, followed by an awkward pause.
Sister Eleanor sighed. "I really do wish there was more I could do to help you, Alina."
Alina paused, blinking back her frustration. As much as she wanted to keep pushing, she couldn't bring herself to be rude to this woman. After all, she was a doctor. She understood confidentiality and had dealt with her fair share of angry patient friends and relatives after telling them she couldn't provide any medical updates. And Sister Eleanor had been kind enough to fax her a copy of her birth certificate; it wasn't much, but it was better than nothing.
"I understand," she sighed. "I am sorry to have wasted your time."
They exchanged pleasantries once more before Alina clicked 'end call,' tapping on the iPhone screen a little harder than was necessary. She looked down at the folded paper in her left hand.
Name: Alina Nikolaevna Levin
Sex: Female. DOB: February 4, 1983. Place of Birth: Hartford, Connecticut
Both of Alina's adoptive parents were listed under 'Mother' and 'Father,' except the longer she stared at the word 'Mother,' the more the faded text began to appear. She was certain it was nothing, until it became something. The letter 'M,' faded into the background behind her adoptive mother's last name, almost as if there had been a word there before that had been erased, whited out somehow.
Her birth mother's last name.
M.
"So, I have a bit of news," Alina announced, somewhat hesitant, dressed in work scrubs and standing in her fiancé's South End brownstone and stirring a boiling pot of spaghetti in the sizeable kitchen.
It had been one day since Alina's conversation with Sister Eleanor, and discovery of that little letter 'M.' It seemed like nothing; still, she couldn't seem to let it go.
"And what might that news be?" Edward asked, removing his suit jacket as he entered the room. "Oh darling, spaghetti?" he glared at the stove. "You know I asked for roast chicken this morning."
"No," Alina replied slowly. "I distinctly remember you saying how long it's been since you've had spaghetti when we talked on the phone today."
Immediately his gaze shot up to meet her eyes.
"Don't contradict me," he said pointedly, his lips curving into that smile that always told her how wrong she was. "No matter. We'll settle for roast chicken tomorrow night."
Alina swallowed, treading forward lightly. The uncertainty whether or not to tell him threatened to swallow her whole, but he was her fiancé. They were to be married, and married couples shared everything. Married couples supported each other, in sickness and in health, in good news and bad news. In life-altering news. And despite Edward being, well, Edward, and everything she had been through with him, she desperately needed to believe he loved her, like the diamond ring on her left ring finger was supposed to prove. She had spent her entire life witnessing a loveless marriage unfold between her parents; she refused to believe that same fate was hers too.
"Anyway," she continued, trying her best to keep her voice even and calm. She wanted to tell him how little time she had to remember the intricate details of their phone calls, as she had examined dozens of patients at the hospital today. But Edward would not have liked that. "I have something I want to tell you. It's not huge news by any means, or well I guess it could be, it depends on how you look at it. Personally I don't think it's huge-"
"Alina, you're rambling," he interrupted her. "You know I don't have time for rambling. Out with it." Edward hung his jacket on the back of a barstool.
"Okay," she breathed, staring down at the pot, focusing on the slow stirring motions. "I know I said I wouldn't pursue this any further—and I haven't, really—but yesterday I...I requested a copy of my birth certificate from the home I was adopted out of in New York." Edward was silent. Alina took that as a sign to continue, not taking her eyes off the rotating spaghetti noodles.
"Of course they couldn't tell me much, you know, confidentiality policies and all, but when I looked at the birth certificate it had my parents' names on it, but under my mother's last name there was this letter-"
What happened next felt like an out-body-experience. Like something she'd witness in slow motion, but actually happened in a matter of seconds.
She looked up.
He was there.
Inches from her face.
The sting against her cheek came first. Then the crashing of the pot, boiling water and all, across the kitchen floor. Then the burning through her shoes. Nike Flex. Good for running and being on your feet for long periods of time. Light. Comfortable. Airy. Too airy this time. Then the small her back suddenly pressed up against the sharp corner of the countertop.
She cried out.
He grabbed her wrist.
"I told you to leave it alone," he seethed, lips right next to her ear.
"Edward, I...I'm sorry, I didn't-" she cried.
"What were you thinking?" he growled. "Huh? That'd you'd somehow find your birth mother and a whole new family and run away from here?"
"No," Alina began, wincing from the stabbing pain in her back, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I don't even know-"
"That woman doesn't even want you!" Edward nearly shouted, his grip on her wrist tightening. "You think she wants some baby she threw away 28 years ago to show up out of nowhere and ruin everything?!"
"Edward, please," Alina openly sobbed. Her fiancé was controlling and had a temper, she had always known this about him. But this, this level of rage, he only saved it for special occasions. Apparently this was one of them.
On the one hand, she was grateful; her body could only take so much. On the other, she had always known in the back of her mind that this was not normal. It was not normal for men to hurt their partners. She knew she needed to get out.
But then a day would pass and Edward would do a complete 180; apologize, buy her flowers, say it would never happen again, make her dinner, take her to bed. The whole package. And of course, she would accept it. It became her normal, to the point where she believed she deserved it.
Until now.
"Get a grip, sweetheart."
He squeezed her wrist tighter yet again, except this time a searing pain shot up to the tip of her thumb. The sickening crack that only a broken bone can make came mere seconds after he threw her to the floor. Hard.
Immediately she curled into a ball sobbing on the cold kitchen tile, cradling her swollen and angry wrist—a desperate act of self-preservation—and bracing herself for the next hit.
More seconds passed, yet it never came. Alina looked up only when his shadow passed over here.
"Clean this up," he ordered, gesturing to the spilled noodles and water before grabbing his suit jacket and heading toward the stairs. As if he hadn't just left her broken on the floor.
Alina could barely breathe. The pain in her wrist was near blinding. Desperate and shaking, she looked around the room toward the front door, the hook right next to it that kept her purse and car keys. Without a second thought, she willed herself up, and ran.
Alina drove all the way to Salem before seeking medical attention. He would never expect her here. No doctor would know her here. Here she was safe.
At least that's what Alina told herself, eyes red and puffy, still in her scrubs and sitting in the ER waiting room at North Shore Medical Center. She knew as soon as she heard the break that the bones in her wrist would need to be reset.
She glanced around the waiting room; it was nearing 9:00pm, well past dark, and well past the bedtimes of the handful of small children that surrounded her. Her heart ached. As a pediatric specialist she wanted nothing more than to carry each of those scared and sick children back to the exam rooms herself, to comfort them, tell them everything was going to be okay. And as much pain as she was in, she prayed those children would be cared for first.
Blinking back more tears, Alina studied the letters on her hospital bracelet, zoning out as her eyes subconsciously picked out all of the 'M's.
M. Her mother's last name.
"Alina!"
A voice startled her from her trance. She looked up, but the pounding in her chest subsided upon noticing who it was. Natasha; tall, midnight black hair, sky blue eyes ablaze with worry. Natasha; her best friend of 25 years, since before she could remember. The one phone call she made as soon as she got here.
Immediately her best friend was at her side, pulling her into an embrace.
"Tash," Alina cried into her shoulder. "You came."
"Of course I came!" her best friend replied, hugging her tightly. "Where else would I be?"
"Probably off somewhere, making out with Peter," Alina chuckled through her tears. Peter was Natasha's new boyfriend of three months.
Natasha gave her a worried glance, before looking down at her wrist. "Oh Leens, what happened?"
"I um," Alina stuttered. "It was nothing really I just...I fell and I didn't want to risk running into anyone I knew if I went to a hospital in town."
But Natasha knew better. She always had, no matter how many times Alina had tried to deny it. They had known each other since they were infants, adopted out of the same group home, both by Russian parents who had worked together for years, moved both girls back and forth for years. Yet somehow, they always remained together, even as Alina went to medical school and Natasha pursued a Social Work degree and went to work for the ACLU.
"Anyone meaning Edward?"
Alina wanted to protest; to lie and say her fiancé could never have done this to her. But she was so tired. This had been going on for so long, and now here she was with a broken bone. She opened her mouth, but no words came out.
Her good hand covering her face, instead she allowed the sob that had been living inside her chest for so long pull her forward. She allowed her best friend to hold her.
"Alina, what happened?" Natasha pleaded, her voice breaking. "Please, tell me."
"I...I can't…" Alina wept. "I can't stay with him anymore. Not after…"
"He did this to you?" It was more of a statement than a question.
Slowly, Alina nodded.
"You know how I've been talking about finding my birth parents?" she choked. Natasha nodded, a stoic expression now gracing her features. Alina could feel her friend's anger building.
"Well I...I called the group home and got a copy of my birth certificate, and I didn't find much but there was this letter under my mother's last name, 'M,' like it used to have my birth mother's last name or something, I don't know. But I told Edward and he...he just got so angry."
Natasha was silent for a moment, processing, before reaching for her cell phone.
"I'm calling my office," she concluded. "We are throwing this son of a bitch in jail for what he did to you."
"No!" Alina shrieked, despite her better judgment. "No please I don't want him to know where I am!"
"Leens..." her best friend breathed incredulously. "He has to pay for what he's done."
"Tash, please," Alina begged again. "I-"
But she was interrupted by the sound of a nurse calling her back, and just Alina's luck, the orthopedic specialist was there within minutes to set her wrist. She knew Natasha would keep pushing her on this, and right now she was just too tired.
"This looks like quite the break," the middle-aged doctor—Dr. Becker—noted. Alina watched her carefully as she examined her wrist, wincing slightly the closer she got to her thumb. "How'd you manage this?"
Alina glanced over at Natasha quickly, silently telling her not to say anything.
"I fell down the stairs," Alina lied, wincing again. "You know, running. Trying to get to a patient too fast."
"I do know that feeling," Dr. Becker nodded.
"What can I say, I'm a clutz." Alina attempted a laugh, all the while knowing that were she the doctor here she would not believe her for a second. She worked with kids; it was her job to know when someone was lying and there was abuse in the home.
If this doctor suspected anything, she didn't let on. That is until-
"You're sure it wasn't anything else?"
Alina swallowed. Natasha shifted uncomfortably in the corner. Alina knew her best friend was bursting at the seams, just as she would be if the situation were reversed. Still, she held onto her lie.
"Yes, I'm sure."
The doctor sighed. "Alright then Alina, I won't lie to you this is going to hurt so I'll need you to look up the corner of the room and count to three, okay?"
"Okay," she nodded. Natasha came forward to squeeze her good hand.
Alina looked up at the corner of the exam room, toward the television screen. Of course it was on a medical channel, she rolled her eyes inwardly. A story played silently about a pair of doctors who helped a woman without a uterus have a baby of her own.
"One, two…" she counted.
On two, she heard another snap as the bone popped back into place.
"Ah fuck!" she swore, crying out in pain. What she wished she could have yelled earlier.
"It's alright," Dr. Becker said. "You're all done. Now to get this wrist of yours fitted for a cast."
Alina groaned inwardly at the idea of wearing a hard cast for weeks on end. Ironically, she had always wanted one as a child so that all her classmates could sign it; now it was just a gross reminder of the horror she had just endured.
"Hey, I'll always sign it for you if you want," Natasha joked quietly, reading her mind.
Alina smiled weakly, glancing up at the TV screen again. The two doctors were sitting in front of the camera almost documentary-style, talking about their patient. Both approaching middle age; the man with greying hair and a kind smile, the woman with what could only be described as classically beautiful features, red hair identical to Alina's.
The camera switched only to the woman. The name Addison Montgomery popped up at the bottom of the screen. Alina should have known; she'd been worshipping Dr. Montgomery's work from afar for years, hearing her past cases referenced over and over throughout medical school and her residency. Her name pop up countless times in medical textbooks and journals. In the world of neonatal and pediatrics, Addison Montgomery was a Meryl Streep.
The words Seaside Health & Wellness, Los Angeles, showed underneath Dr. Montgomery's name, and suddenly Alina knew what she had to do. The realization hit her like a train.
"Tash," she whispered.
"Yeah?" her best friend replied, still holding her hand.
"I know what I have to do."
She looked up at her.
"You know that emergency medicine fellowship I applied for but decided not to take after that fight with my mother?"
Natasha nodded.
"I never told Edward about it." Alina swallowed. "But that's what I'm going to do. I'm going to take it."
"Leens, you know I'll support you in anything, but that's a long way to-"
"Tash, I'm taking it. I have to get out of here. Somewhere he can't follow me."
Alina's eyes filled with tears again as she looked at her best friend.
"I have to go to Los Angeles."
What she didn't tell Natasha was the one other detail that stuck out in her mind. She told her best friend everything, but this felt almost too irrational, and the last thing Alina needed was for someone to think her crazier than she already felt.
Montgomery began with an M.
March, 2012
Los Angeles, California
Addison watched helplessly from the corner as a swarm of doctors she didn't recognize surrounded her daughter, whose body began to seize uncontrollably.
Words like "I need a head CT!" "Could be a brain bleed!" and "Emergency surgery" surrounded her, and Addison felt frozen in fear. As a doctor, she knew how to handle emergencies. Push everything aside and give her patient exactly what they needed.
But this wasn't just a patient.
"Dr. Montgomery is there something you need here?" the attending doctor shouted in her direction, startling her.
"No, but-" she began.
"Then I'm going to need to ask you to step aside so we can get our patient into surgery." This was not a request.
Doctor-Addison would have fought back, not let some know-it-all attending boss her around.
Mother-Addison froze. The crowd shoved past her, wheeling Alina with them, who now lie completely still. Addison watched them race down the hall, tears streaming down her cheeks, praying to whatever higher power existed that this was not the last time she'd see her daughter alive.
"Addison? What in the world are you doing here at six o'clock in the morning?"
Charlotte King's voice startled her awake as she sat slumped over in a waiting room chair. Jake had gone to the cafeteria to get them both coffee just moments ago; as if Addison needed another reason to love him more, to know he was the one; he had stayed at the hospital with her all night, been right there to hold her as Alina went into yet another emergency surgery.
"Charlotte," Addison yawned, sitting up straight. "There was um...a surgery, with a patient…"
She didn't need to see Charlotte's brow raise in disbelief to know her words made little sense. After all, she was exhausted. She hadn't slept in almost 24 hours.
"A surgery? With a patient?" Charlotte came over and sat next to her. "At six AM? That you're not in on?"
Addison realized she needed a better explanation.
"I um," she began, but because the universe hated her, Jake chose that moment to appear with two cups of hot coffee.
"Charlotte," he nodded politely, and Addison wondered how he can still be so coherent after staying awake nearly as long as her.
But Charlotte just looked at her again.
"Okay, now you've really got some explaining to do," she challenged. "Come on, I've told you all my stuff about Cooper, and Mason, and Erica. Kinda thought we had some sort of friendship thing going on. So spill."
"I'm not sure there's an exact word for what we are, Charlotte," Addison admitted. "But um…" She glanced at Jake, who gave her a slight nod, silently telling her to go ahead. Everyone was bound to find out anyway, especially considering there was no way Addison was letting Alina go anytime soon.
"It's Dr. Levin," Addison said. "She's in surgery for a brain bleed."
Charlotte's eyes widened.
"Well I'm sure glad no one decided to tell me this earlier, not like it's my hospital or anything," she huffed. "What happened?"
"Someone attacked her," Addison replied. "I found her last night at her house, unconscious."
"At her house?"
"Yeah," Addison exhaled. "I went over there to…" she paused. "Charlotte there's something I have to tell you and I need you to just...not react, okay?"
"Okay…" Charlotte's brow furrowed.
"When I was sixteen, I was raped. I had a baby. I wanted her but my mother...let's just say the circumstances wouldn't allow it. She was put up for adoption, but last month I, I found her."
Charlotte was silent, letting her continue.
"Charlotte, Alina is my daughter."
Charlotte takes in a deep breath, processing. "This," she said. "Is me not reacting."
Maybe it was the exhaustion. Maybe it was the sheer coincidence of this entire situation. Addison didn't know. But as she sat there watching Charlotte, she couldn't help but burst into laughter.
"Are you-" Charlotte began. "I'm sorry, are you laughing right now?"
Addison could feel Jake's concerned glance without even having to look at him.
"I'm sorry," she laughed, holding up a hand and feeling the tears sting her eyes once more. "I'm sorry it's just...I know what you're thinking. You mean to tell me that little girl who you couldn't stand, and came bargin' into my office wondering how the devil she got hired here is your daughter?" Addison said in a mock Southern accent. "And then," she continued, barely able to get the words out for laughing. "And then I say yep! That's her! I just found her! And now she could be fighting for her life! I'm sorry I know it's not funny it's just...the universe is such a bitch, isn't it? God, I'm so tired…"
Jake gently grabbed hold of her hand, and immediately she felt herself coming back down to earth. Enough to where she couldn't believe the words that just came out of her mouth; the fact that she just laughed of all things. Addison leaned forward, covering her face.
"Oh I have no idea what I'm doing," she muttered. "She doesn't even know who I am."
"Well do you want her to?" Charlotte asked.
Addison glanced over at her, feeling the redness in her eyes without even needing to look in a mirror.
"Yes," she admitted. "No. I don't know. That was why I went over to her house last night, to tell her...but then I found her. I don't know, I want to tell her but then...what if she doesn't want me?" She could hardly bear the thought.
"Hey…" Jake cut in, his voice calm and soothing. "You do not know that, Addison. For all we know, she could have been looking for you, thinking about you for as long as you've been thinking about her."
Addison wiped a stray tear from her cheek with a quick swipe of the hand.
"Hey, took the words right out of my mouth," Charlotte shrugged. "If you never say anything, you'll never know one way or another. If you do; it might not be an answer you like, but at least you can move forward."
"But that's just the thing," Addison whispered. "When Alina's...parents"—the word tasted like pennies in her mouth—"came out here to visit last month, her mother," she paused again, not wanting to admit in front of Jake that Alina's adoptive mother had come to visit her. At the time it had confused her, but now that she knows who Alina is, the last thing she needed was for Jake to think she had lied to him. Especially considering how supportive he's been already.
"Her mother told me she had started looking into who her birth parents are, about a month before she moved here. She had been...trying to find me. And maybe her mother knew who I was, but didn't say anything, I don't know." Honestly, none of that really mattered to her either. All that mattered was Alina; her safety, and her happiness. "I'm just afraid...what if she finds out it's me and I just turn out to be this...big disappointment?"
"Addison Forbes Montgomery, you could never, ever be a disappointment." Jake squeezed her hand. "Not a day in your life."
She gave him a small smile.
"Well," Charlotte said. "You could think about it this way; at least you know she's not completely opposed to the idea of a relationship with her birth mother. With you."
Addison nodded.
"I don't know," Charlotte continued. "As Chief of Staff, I'd say keep your drama out of my hospital. But as your friend, I say go for it. You got nothin' to lose."
Addison opened her mouth to reply but was interrupted by the appearance of Pete in the waiting room lobby.
"Hey," he greeted them, a concerned look in his eye. "I just saw Dr. Levin's name on the surgical board."
"Does everyone just show up to the hospital at the crack of dawn these days?" Charlotte muttered.
"I had a patient that got admitted to the ER an hour ago for an arrhythmia," Pete told her. "What happened?"
"She was attacked," Addison managed, for what felt like the hundredth time. And the more she said it the more it hurt. Once again she expected a whole new look of shock from Pete.
Yet that look never came. Instead, he looked scared. Serious. Like he knew something.
"Someone hurt her?" he repeated, deadpan. More of a statement than a question.
"Do you know something?" Addison asked, without missing a beat.
"I know someone came to see her in the ER yesterday afternoon," he replied. "I didn't hear the whole conversation but it seemed to get heated so I went over to see if everything was okay. She said everything was fine, but seemed pretty shaken up about it afterward. For the rest of the day, to be honest."
"What did they look like?" Addison asked seriously.
"Tall, dark hair, British accent..." Pete listed off.
A wave of nausea passed through Addison, and it took everything she had not to throw up. She knew who it was. She knew who did it.
"I'm going to make sure there's security near her room at all times," Charlotte said, standing up.
"Charlotte!" Addison stopped her. "Please don't...not yet."
Charlotte nodded, an unspoken agreement sealed.
"What's going on?" Pete asked, just as Addison's pager went off.
She ignored it.
"I think that was her ex," Addison admitted. "She's mentioned before he had been...violent toward her." She swallowed. The pager went off again. 911 from the ER.
"I am not on CALL right now!" she shouted. Not to mention she hadn't slept in 24 hours.
Before anyone could respond, especially Jake, Addison stood up forcefully, storming down to the Emergency Room.
The case had been routine. Pointless, even. Mother with Braxton Hicks contractions. No other OB in the hospital. So they paged the best option.
Normally, a compliment. Today, rage-inducing.
An hour had passed since the page. Alina was due to be out of surgery at any minute. Addison stood at a nurse's station, finishing the last of the necessary signatures in the patient's file.
"Is there an Alina Levin here?" a panicked voice came out of nowhere.
Addison's head shot up. A tall young woman with dark hair and about Alina's age hurried toward the nurse's station, fear in her eyes.
"Can I help you?" Addison asked immediately.
"My name's Natasha Parodi," the woman said. "I got a call about a doctor Alina Levin. I'm her emergency contact. Is she okay?"
Addison was suddenly curious. "And you are…?"
"Her best friend of 28 years," came the quick reply. "Is she okay?"
They made eye contact, and the young woman paled.
"Oh my god," she whispered, bringing a hand to her mouth. "I can't believe it. She found you."
Addison knew exactly what she was talking about. Setting the patient file back in its folder, she reached for Natasha's hand.
"Come with me."
"I'm sorry it's just...you look so much like her. I knew it had to be you right away. We spent so much of our childhood wondering about you. I can't believe I'm actually sitting here with you, at a table, outside the hospital where she works," Natasha said, trying to mask nervously twirling the ring on her pinky finger. "It's like the stars have truly aligned."
Addison sat across from her, watching her daughter's friend intently. Trying to imagine the two of them as infants, toddlers, adolescents, teenagers, growing up together. Thinking about how this young woman has witnessed every pivotal moment of her daughter's life, all the firsts that Addison missed. Braces. Boyfriends. High school. College. And even earlier; learning to talk, learning to read.
"So you two have known each other since…"
"Birth, pretty much," Natasha finished. Addison tried her hardest to hide the twinge in her chest. But Natasha must have noticed. "Sorry," she continued. "I just mean, we were adopted out of the same group home in New York. Our mothers worked together, you know, both doctors and both doing a lot of research on the same projects...they were partners, pretty much. So we moved around a lot, back and forth from Russia, and usually at the same time. And we were both only children, so...Leens was, is, pretty much my sister. She...got me in ways that no one else really could. I'd do anything for her."
Addison felt herself blinking back tears again.
"And do you," she started. "I mean do you know your birth parents?"
"No," Natasha shook her head. "Leens and I both had pretty intense moms, but I know mine always wanted to be honest with me about where—and who—I came from; that was one area where we didn't have so much in common. My birth parents died two days after I was born. And neither of them really had any family so it was off to the group home with me. My parents adopted me eight months later. Same time as Leens. Our birthdays are two months apart."
"Leens," Addison repeated, testing out the nickname.
"So, if you don't mind my asking," Natasha began. "Why did you give her up? I mean don't get me wrong you seem like a nice person, but as her best friend I need to know your intentions here. Alina is special. She is sweet, and kind, and loyal. She takes care of kids for a living. And I swear if you break her heart, I-"
"Whoa," Addison stopped her. "Okay, first of all, I would never do anything to hurt her." I love her, she wanted to add. "Second of all, it wasn't...my choice. To give her away I mean. She was…" Addison exhaled. "Back in high school, I was raped. I got pregnant. Where I come from...getting pregnant at sixteen wasn't exactly a thing people did, no matter the circumstance. It just didn't happen. My mother made the decision for me that I wouldn't keep her. I couldn't keep her. But I knew as soon as she was born, I loved her. Even if I wasn't supposed to. She was like this bright, beautiful light in this big, dark hole I was stuck in. I remember when I held her she reached a hand up for me, like she was trying to be sure of me. That I wouldn't let her go. But I let her go.
"I don't know, I…" Addison choked. "I should have fought harder. I should have gone after her. But I was so young and it felt like my whole world had just...fallen apart. I was a coward. I thought I could just move on with my life and tell myself that wherever she was she had a loving family and she was happy, and that would be enough. But it wasn't. It's not."
Natasha blinked, waiting for her to continue.
"You know these past few years I thought about having another baby. That finally I was at the point in my career where I could raise a kid on my own, and that would be that. But...I can't. I've tried and...I can't. Alina was my baby, and I let her go. I let someone take her away from me. And I have to live with that. So no, I would never do anything to hurt her."
The younger woman's eyes shined with tears.
"Thank you for telling me," Natasha whispered. "You know." She composed herself. "We spent so many years wondering about you, where you were, what you did. When we were seven we came up with a character for you, 'Super Mom.'"
Addison chuckled, wiping at her eyes.
"Leens' mother wasn't...let's just say she wasn't the most equipped to raise a little girl. Alina's dad was the one who wanted her. Tucked her into bed every night. Told her he loved her. Anyway, I remember we had just moved back to St. Petersburg and I was over at their house one afternoon and we were playing dress-up I think it was. We put on these long dresses and we were twirling around the back room of the house. I remember her goofy little grin back then; she had this adorable little gap right between her front teeth."
Just like I did, Addison thought.
"Alina accidentally knocked over a vase or something—just a glass thing nothing special—but as soon as she heard it Alexandra came running into the room just screaming and yelling, reaming her a new one about a fucking vase. Calling her stupid and irresponsible. Scared me too, to be honest. And when she left I remember Alina just wilted there on the floor, her little hands were shaking and she cut herself trying to pick up all that glass. I could tell she wanted to cry but...she never did. So I sat down beside her, took her hand, and said hey, what do you think Super Mom is doing right now?
And now here you are. And you're...you. You love her, which is more than I can say about the mother she grew up with. She has a mother who loves her. You have no idea how much she deserves that."
By this point, both women were openly crying.
"Thank you," Addison nodded, taking her hand. "For being there for her when I-"
"Hey," Natasha smiled, wiping her eyes. "Don't mention it. Although I suppose I should be thanking you...if it weren't for you I wouldn't even have a sister."
Addison smiled.
"I um, I haven't decided if I want to tell her, or how...I mean I want to, but like you said she's...she's special. I don't want to hurt her or cause her any pain, but...after I found out I went to her house. Last night. But then I found her…"
"You said she was attacked," Natasha finished.
"We think it was her ex-boyfriend," Addison concluded. "Another doctor said he saw Alina talking with a dark-haired British man in the ER yesterday and she...she looked uncomfortable, to say the least."
Natasha's eyes flooded with tears. "That son of a bitch," she muttered through clenched teeth.
Addison sat up straighter.
"I was with her in the emergency room after that bastard broke her wrist last fall," Natasha continued. "She never told me why he did it, only that he did. She drove 30 miles north of Boston just to get it treated. Didn't want anyone she knew to see her or call him. I should have had his ass thrown in jail then and there," adding "I'm a social worker with lawyer friends in high places. Higher than that monster, anyway."
"What did you do then?" Addison asked.
"She just told me she couldn't stay with him anymore. Her body couldn't take it anymore. I...I had always known he was intense, like her mother, and I tried to tell her early on, but she was convinced she loved him. Or that she deserved him I guess. I knew he had a temper but I never thought...I guess I didn't want to think he'd ever hurt her. But he…" Natasha took a deep breath. "He'd been physical with her for a while and I'll...I'm not sure I'll ever forgive myself for not getting her out of there sooner."
"But you did…?"
"That night in the ER, I don't know why, but Leens just told me, after they set her wrist, she said she was taking that fellowship she applied for after all. She was going to LA. And even though we're here now...god damn am I glad she did."
"Me too," Addison choked.
A loud beeping startled them both. Addison's pager.
"She's out of surgery," Addison said. "We should- I mean you should go in and see her."
Both women stood up.
"No," Natasha said. "We should."
Addison watched from the doorway as Natasha approached her daughter, sat on the edge of her bed as Alina's eyes fluttered open. She desperately wanted to move closer, to take her hand, but the girls deserved their moment.
"Leens," Natasha said her name gently. "Leens it's me, it's Tash. I'm here in LA, I'm right here, you're gonna be okay."
"Tash." Alina's voice came out in a raspy whisper, and Addison felt her heart explode, hearing her daughter's voice again. That perfect voice.
"Yeah, yeah it's me," Natasha cried. "You just came out of surgery, and you did so good. You did so good. You're gonna get better and...I'm never gonna let this happen to you again, I promise."
Neither will I, Addison promised silently.
"But Leens, I," Natasha continued. "I have someone here I think you're gonna want to meet."
"Who is it?" Alina whispered.
Addison took a deep breath, and stepped forward.
Reviews would be warmly welcomed :)