The Hunter and The Butterfly
Chapter 29
The next morning, after her long conversation with James and screaming her lungs out at him, Zilpha woke up with no voice and in excruciating pain. She had not known the extent of her anger towards her half-brother, but now she felt the full force of it the moment her eyes opened. It hurt to yawn, speak, cough, cry or even breathe, and before she knew it she had to take the next few days off. Thorne offered to make an emergency doctor's appointment so she could get checked out, but Zilpha waved him dismissively and assured him she would be better in the following weeks. Now that she had an unplanned day of laying in bed and eating soft, cold foods the majority of the time, she had time to ponder her conversation the night before. The shock of hearing James's voice still rung in her ears, yet the tone of his voice was oddly different from his usual. It almost sounded remorseful, kind and soft, unlike his authoritative, disgruntled groans and commands that turned him into the man he was today. The words he spoke, they were unlike any others she had ever heard. If he went without speaking, he would call back and act like he had done nothing wrong, but the man had accepted his actions and would not blame her if she never spoke to him again. What was exactly going on with James Delaney?
"Honey?" Zilpha jumped when her husband came inside the room. "How's your throat?"
"No worse than yesterday," Zilpha rasped as she took another pain pill with a glass of water. "Just really sore."
"Well just keep your meals cold and rest," Thorne kissed her forehead. "You sound terrible."
"Gee, thanks," Zilpha rolled her eyes and pressed an ice pack against her throat.
"Sweetheart...you haven't talked about the call since this morning. How do you feel with him calling you after so long?" Thorne asked.
Zilpha took another sip of water and sat the glass on the dresser, a frown forming her lips. There was a weighty quietness that threatened to shift reality altogether. How did she feel of James after all this time? It was too soon to tell. Feelings of anger, happiness, relief, and longing were mixed together, and she could not comprehend how Robert was handling it. He did not really say much, only that he was going through the same emotions as she was. She had wanted to reach out to him to talk about it, but since she really had no voice, it was not a great time to make conversation.
"I'm...not sure yet," she rasped. "It only happened last night. I need more time to comprehend things."
"Well, you can comprehend all you want while you're resting," Thorne rolled his sleeves half way. "Because I just talked with your boss. He's telling me because of how you sounded over the phone, he's given you extended leave."
"What?" Zilpha shot out of bed, but immediately regretted it when she felt pain radiate through her vocal cords. "For how long?"
"However long I believe is necessary," Thorne left it at that, and without another word, he turned his back to exit the room, but not before Zilpha threw a pillow at his back with a verbal insult. Thorne just gave her a slight smirk as he exited the bedroom, telling her to get some sleep before closing the door. Groaning in both pain and defeat, Zilpha leaned back against the pillows, pondering what to do about her current predicament and her nosy husband.
As she accepted a tray of food a nurse had given her, Pearl thanked the young woman as she exited the hospital room. Because various scans from the medical staff indicating alarming rising of anxiety levels and brain activity, Pearl was ordered to remain in the hospital for the time being to continue evaluation. There were periods of time where medical staff swarmed her room hearing screaming, only to find her flailing about her bed as she slept, calling out to someone to stop the torture and for help. However, when she woke up in the morning, she had no recollection of any dream she had. Her injuries had mostly healed, but it still hurt to walk as her legs still retained the soreness when she woke up on the side of the road. Some even did mobility tests where they flexed her muscles out and walked her slowly around the room, yet once they realized that was not the issue, they ceased and continued the mental evaluation. A few hours after the nurse left, a balding older man wearing glasses and holding a clipboard came into the room. He introduced himself as a therapist named Dr. Abraham Gritter before taking a seat next to her bed in a chair.
"Tell me, Pearl," the therapist took down some notes. "What do you remember the night you were found on the side of the road?"
Pearl was laying down with her eyes closed, recollecting the past few days. Everything appeared in a swirl of images and flashes of rainbow light, until her memory set on the day she was discovered by Raven, the motorist she remembered who took her to the hospital. Bits and pieces were puzzled together, but a sudden flash of another image appeared. Looking down, she saw that her hands were bruised and scraped, along with her legs, and her clothes had been tattered. She ran a hand through her hair and felt the back of her head. It was tender to the touch, and when she pulled her hand away from her head, her eyes had widened when she saw dirt and pebbles unravel from the knots. Eyes opening, Pearl became alert and she turned to Dr. Gritter.
"I remember waking up and my clothes were torn up and I was injured," she emphasized by showing him her bruises and cuts that were still healing around her wrists and calves. "And I had...rocks in my hair."
"Rocks in your hair? Were they from lying in the grass?" Dr. Gritter adjusted his spectacles.
"The grass felt warm and soft and the dirt was brown, so I don't think they did," Pearl shifted her weight. "My memory's still hazy. I'm sorry I can't provide you with more answers."
"You've given me enough information to start with, Ms. Pearl," Dr. Gritter smiled. "I'll keep this appointment short and come back out in a week's time to see how you are doing. Here's my contact."
Pearl took a card from his hand and thanked him for coming in. The therapist exited the room, leaving her alone with her thoughts. Folding her hands together, the young blonde began to think more of how she was found: disheveled, scraped up, torn clothes hanging from her frame. A deep frown crossed her lips, and she felt like she had no control of her own memory. To think that something had happened to her that caused this, it felt depraving and inhumane. Tears welled in her eyes and her teeth clenched tightly, sobs echoing through the empty room as she continuously wiped her eyes. However, her cries stopped when she heard another knock at the door. Looking up, she saw a familiar face that made her mood instantly change: two figures who took on her visage and looks, her mother and father. Pearl's mother wore a form fitting black dress with high heels, long blonde hair tied back in an elegant bun with curls framing the side of her face. Her blue eyes mirrored those of her daughters, brows furrowed together in a serious look. Her father wore a formal grey business suit with a black tie and polished shoes, though his gut protruded outward more than the average man's did. Upon entering her room, the couple's eyes fell onto their daughter.
"Mother," more tears welled in her eyes.
"Darling," the tall woman's heels clicked against the floor as she jogged towards the bed, arms thrusting outward and engulfing Pearl in an embrace that enveloped her entire frame. "I'm so sorry we couldn't make it sooner."
"Marjorie, please," Pearl's father put a firm hand on her shoulder. "She has more than one parent to greet her."
"Daddy," Pearl opened her arms like a little kid, and his narrowed eyes immediately welled up with his own tears. Sniffling, her father wrapped two strong arms around her, holding her for a longer moment. Marjorie put comforting hands on his back and started to rub his shoulders.
"Oh, Pearl," her dad let her go after a few minutes. "No father should have to see his daughter like this. I'm so sorry this happened to you."
"I know, father," Pearl wiped her eyes.
"Frederick," Marjorie turned towards her husband. "She doesn't want to talk about it."
"No, mother, please don't stop him," Pearl waved her dismissively. Marjorie walked passed him and went to hug her daughter one more time. "I talked with a therapist today, and the doctors want to keep me here for further evaluation."
"Why can't they just release you to us?" Frederick balled his hands into fists. "You'll do much better back at home with us. You can recuperate much more peacefully."
Pearl was about to say something when she heard more footsteps enter the room. James and Lorna noticed her parents beside her, both of them slowing their pace. James introduced himself to them before making his way towards her bed, whereas Lorna was more upfront, all smiles and assuring looks. They watched as James turned to Pearl with regarded attention.
"How are you feeling?" James crossed his arms.
"I'm better. James, Lorna, these are my parents: Frederick and Marjorie. They flew in from Sunderland," Pearl gestured towards her parents.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, James," her father shook his hand. "I've read so much about your father in the news. I can trust that the most prestigious lawyer in all of London will have no trouble handling our daughter's case."
James and Lorna looked at the ground with uneasy looks. This case had been a frustrating one for the pair, especially for Pearl's sake. It was like George's all over again, except this time the circumstances surrounding this one appeared more serious and distressing. George had fully recovered from his concussion and was back at work, yet he still could not remember how he ended up in the alleyway. He still had the skills needed to come back, but for Pearl, it was not looking good. James balled one hand into a fists as he turned away in shame, leaving Lorna to explain everything. Pearl's parents were stunned to hear that they did not have much to go by, as the extent of their daughter's situation came into light. They were unaware that she had been found on the side of the rode in a distressed state, and they themselves just found out she had been suffering from night terrors. Often, Pearl would wake up in a state of shock, sweat beading down her forehead and a hazy look in her eye.
"Are you serious?!" Frederick angrily turned towards his daughter. "You didn't tell us this? Why, Pearl, why?!"
"Please, do not blame her," Lorna defended. "We're doing our best."
"YOU'RE BEST IS NOT ENOUGH!" Frederick yelled. "My daughter's mental state is possibly deteriorating and you all are taking your sweet-arse times trying to help her! I won't stand for this, I WON'T!"
"Father..." Pearl tried to talk, but he marched out the room and slammed the door shut. The room fell silent as her mother apologized before racing out of the room towards her husband. Lorna stood in front of the door, contemplating on how to handle the situation, as James turned towards Pearl. Once she realized that he had no intention of leaving her side, Lorna cautiously made her way towards the door and slowly exited the room. Looking around the hall filled with doctors racing to rooms and the front desk, she saw the distant frame of Pearl's parents sitting in chairs. Frederick pinched the bridge of his nose and his eyes shut tightly while Marjorie did her best to comfort him, assuring that they knew what they were doing. Their eyes darted up when they saw James's paralegal walking over.
"I'm sorry," Lorna apologized. "We didn't know that you weren't aware of how serious your daughter's case was."
"No, don't apologize," Marjorie assured her with a smile. "You were only trying to help her. We only arrived two days ago and it's been very hard for us, having to make room in our schedules to see her."
"Tell me, Lorna," Frederick glared at her. "Do you know what it's like to see your child in a hospital bed?"
"Of course I do," Lorna answered defensively. "A good friend of mine was admitted weeks ago with a concussion. He was suffering from memory loss as well."
"Have you solved his case then?" Frederick shot back. When she fell silent, he scoffed and shook his head. "I didn't think so."
"We only have so much to go on," Lorna explained truthfully. "It's only been a few days since she was admitted, and this takes a long time to process. We're working with the police as we speak, but so far we only have what your daughter told us."
"I know, I know," Frederick closed his eyes. "It just enrages me when you only have so much to go by. I know you're trying your hardest, but I need my Pearl back. She's everything to me."
"I understand," Lorna's family started to reflect in her mind.
"I know one thing for certain," Frederick frowned grimly. "Is that it was no accident what happened to her. Whoever did this knew what they were doing. Nobody just wakes up on the side of the road wearing torn clothes covered in bruises."
The whole waiting room went silent as Lorna never even considered the thought. Now looking back to George's case, she knew that both events had to be connected. George waking up in the alleyway and now with Pearl's hospital visits, something more sinister was lurking in the corners. Yet with so little to go on, it appeared that the outcome to both cases looked more bleak then she realized.
Meanwhile, in her small cottage that was miles and miles away from the big city, Anna Delaney was humming a happy melody to herself while she watered flowers that hung on hooks dangling from her roof. She took a watering can and gently sprinkled small droplets into each of the pots, talking to the plants as if they were her own children, telling them that they will grow to be mighty and strong just like her son. Once she was done, she emptied the can into the grass before going inside the house. As she began to prepare a fresh kettle of hot green tea, the phone suddenly started to ring off the hook. Eyes darting back and forth, Anna turned off the burner before heading towards the black phone that hung in the living room on the wall.
"Hello?" she answered.
"Anna," Zilpha's voice echoed on the other end.
"Zilpha? Darling, how are you doing?" Anna was delighted to hear her voice, though it was a bit scratchier than she remembered.
"I've been better. Hey, Anna...I know this is urgent, but I need you to pack some clothing and get ready for a trip."
"What?" Anna was confused by her "daughter's" words. "Darling, are you hearing yourself right now?"
"Just trust me!" Zilpha coughed. "Believe me, I wouldn't be asking this if it wasn't important."
"Honey, what's wrong?" Anna could tell something was off.
The line went silent before the truth spilled from Zilpha's sore throat. Once their conversation was over, Anna's eyes widened and her heart stopped beating as she placed the phone on the hook. Looking around her room, she quickly made sure everything was in place before hurrying upstairs to the master bedroom where a suitcase was dug out of the closet. Sets of clothes, essentials for clean teeth, an extra pair of shoes, and other amenities were thrown inside before it was drug downstairs out the front door and into the trunk of a Chevrolet Caprice, its engine revving before it sped off down the road. In its driver's seat, Anna clutched the wheel with anticipation and excitement.
To Be Continued
This chapter was a bit hard to write, but I have a feeling of where I want to go with this story. Where you'll just have to find out, my readers!
Thanks for the view count, etc etc, you know me! Words and all are welcomed.
See you next chapter! :)
