"Such a tragic story."
"Yes, unbelievable, isn't it?"
"Such a fate at that age."
"Terrible. If you ask me, the boy was lucky."
Angry, she squeezed her eyes shut and, as always, ignored the voices.
Her gaze was still trained on the window and stared at the gray sky, which hadn't really changed in days.
After she was interviewed by Chief Swan and tearfully told what had happened - he, by the way, was just as uncomfortable as she was - she was left in peace.
The nurses came every day, helped her to the bathroom, brought her food and checked her vitals, but she had no words for them. If she thought it right, she hadn't said a whole sentence after talking to the police.
Alex's parents wanted to speak to her but she hid cowardly, used her condition as excuse. How could she face them? How could she bear the pain in her eyes when she couldn't control her own. How could she look into his mother's blue eyes? Same eyes as Alex had?
Dr. Cullen made his rounds conscientiously and came at the same time each day.
It was much harder to ignore him than the others. It wasn't just his ridiculously good looks. He exuded so much kindness and compassion that it was outright impossible to not see him. He always wore the same smile, the same twinkle in his eyes and greeted her with the same enthusiasm.
But it hurt.
It hurt a lot more than the brief expressions of sympathy from the nurses and Chief Swan.
He was not upset by her melancholy, on the contrary.
Lily thought that as a doctor he was just used to working with broken people like her.
She was hardly the first tragic fate that had found its way into his workspace.
And yet something else was hidden behind the cheerful mask. It took a few days for it to show up. It was certainly not what he intended, she was sure of it.
It flashed in his eyes and his face twisted in pain. It was as if he could feel her pain, as if it would cause him physical agony to see her that way.
His pain was too much, too confusing, too intense.
She could neither classify nor explain it.
She classified his reaction as pity, maybe he was just a remarkably compassionate person.
In general, his presence always threw her off. His presence triggered something that she fought with all her might. His voice made her forget her pain for a moment and she hated him for it.
She wanted to suffer, she deserved to suffer.
The days were nothing compared to the nights.
She lay awake for hours, staring at the ceiling above. Her head played the scenes over and over again until she finally fell into a restless sleep from which she usually woke up sobbing.
Sometimes of all people, she was woken up by him. Even in the darkness of her room she could see his fine features and the pain that was hidden in them. His eyes glowed and dulled as she turned away without comment.
The guilty conscience that plagued her afterwards was just as unwelcome as the feeling she had when he was here.
As if her pain weren't bad enough, apparently her knee had been so damaged in the accident that she could hardly move it, let alone put weight on it.
"Lily."
His velvety voice was cautious, as if he were addressing a shy deer.
She still had her gaze fixed on the window.
She had hardly slept, he had to shake her out of her restless sleep several times. She had dreamed of him, of all people.
Again Alex disappeared, his grin, his dimples, the open friendly face disappeared with every second and the predator reappeared and stared at her. But this time his eyes weren't black, they were gold. The strangest thing was that she wasn't scared. On the contrary. It was only when he appeared that she seemed to calm down.
"Your vitals look good, I think it's time to talk about physio therapy."
His voice tore her from her thoughts and she wanted to sigh. How could a person be so positive.
He was not deterred.
But neither does she.
She didn't want to hear about physiotherapy.
She was only 18, yet knew that a battered knee seldom fully recovered. Especially not with damaged nerves and severed tendons.
Besides, what is the point? Even when she did the therapy, even if she could walk halfway, she could never afford the hospital bill - let alone the therapy afterwards. And she could forget her waiter job too - she couldn't even sit up without pain.
And she certainly could not think about her father.
"Please. Lily."
There was something pleading in his voice and it worked. She was powerless. She hated him for it.
After the nurses had apparently been relieved of their silence, she heard exactly what was being said about him. He was obviously a saint.
Kind, compassionate, knowledgeable, generous, and handsome. Apparently there wasn't enough praise for Dr. Cullen and the fact that he was single was the cherry on top.
She could hear in the voices of the women how they longed for him. How they wanted his attention. And she also noticed how he was apparently unaware of their attention.
So what did he want from her. Why didn't he just leave her alone.
Her gaze found his and she glared at him angrily. Apparently it had its effect, he backed away slightly. She couldn't be happy about it, on the contrary. To her displeasure, she found herself feeling bad again. He didn't deserve her hatred, but she didn't have the strength to pull herself together.
"When will I be released?"
It was the first full sentence in two weeks. He looked at her in surprise and was speechless for a second. He seemed to weigh the words carefully.
"Well. If you do the therapy, it could work out by Christmas."
Her breath caught.
Christmas.
That was ... that was almost half a year.
She would be released with a mountain of debt that she could never repay. Her life was over befor it had begun.
As if he could read her mind, he reassured her.
"Please don't worry, Chief Swan and the local council have already figured out a way to handle the costs."
"The Forks Social Case, a community profect."
There was no humor in her voice.
"They want to help, Lily. We all want to."
She was about to say something harsh, but stopped. It was as if she couldn't insult him. As if something in her was stopping her. It was grueling and confusing.
So she just shook her head and kept staring out the window. Dr. Cullen sighed and Lily noticed sourly that even that sounded melodic.
He scribbled a few more words on her file, presumably monitoring her moods - not that they were changing much. From angry to sad and depressed and then angry again. He turned his head towards the door as if he'd heard something and just a second later she heard his name over the speaker. He gave her a pitying look that she wanted to hate and apologized.
Unlike usual, she didn't turn away immediately, her eyes followed his shape as he disappeared out the door. So she noticed how he stopped for a moment, as if he wanted to turn around, but he didn't. He disappeared. And Lily was again alone with her thoughts.