I told someone that I was planning to have a weekly update of Forbidden, and the person asked me, 'So you're going for quantity instead of quality?'

See, I didn't know you can't have both.

So since this update came only about a week since the last one, please inform me if the quality of this chapter is low. I have no problems taking four months before updating again, like I used to, in order to produce a quality chapter.

Anyway, this chapter is short, because it's supposed to be a prelude to the next chapter. But just so you know, it might be another four months before the next update.

Thanks for reading and reviewing.

-Aina-

Suze

I woke up to bright white lights and the clean scent of bandages.

Blinking against the lights, it took me a few seconds to adjust my eyes before I was able to see clearly. I was in a small room with a curtained window on my right, a small TV hanging from the wall in front of me and a closet beside my bed. Based on that familiar smell of medicines, I knew that I was in a hospital.

I hated hospitals. I'd spent enough time in them during my teenage years to last a lifetime. Which was why I groaned out loud, because I didn't like where I was, not because my head was hurting.

Maybe that too.

I was thinking if I should call the nurse while wondering why the hell no one was there with me, when I realized that everyone I knew probably didn't know that I was here. Sure, I got my ID in my purse, but I didn't have a card which proclaimed 'In case of emergency, please call …' and rightfully too, since as far as I know, no one has those cards except kindergarten kids.

Then the door on my left magically opened, and a doctor walked in.

Jesse.

No, wait.

It's not Jesse. My brain must have been muddled with the drugs they'd given me.

Fighting the rising disappointment, I watched as the doctor walked over to me, peered into my eyes and said, 'Suze?'

And that's when I recognized the doctor as Jesse's best friend, Dylan.

I wanted to reply, but my throat felt dry. He must have known that, since he said, 'You don't have to talk' before picking up a plastic cup of water with a straw from the bedside table and held it to my lips so I could drink it.

I drank until it was finished, and felt sorry that there wasn't anymore. I was really, really thirsty.

But Dylan just placed the cup on the table before looking back at me analytically. "Better? Nod so you don't have to speak.'

I nodded, but managed to croak feebly, 'Yeah.'

'Good,' he said. Then he proceeded to check my head wound, my bandaged hands, my sore ribs, before moving on to my left leg that was in a cast, all the while asking me to nod if it hurt when he prodded at them.

As he wrote some notes on a clipboard that he picked up from the end of the bed, he told me about my injuries – broken leg, a cut on my temple that needed 5 stitches, some cuts on my hands and some bruising on my ribs. No concussions and no internal bleeding. So none of my injuries were really serious, even the broken leg, because even though it was broken in two places, just above my ankle and on my calf, the fractures were clean breaks so they didn't even have to put metals or screws on.

I was glad about that, as you can guess. But not so glad when he told me that my clothes were pretty much ruined since they had to cut it open in order to check for my wounds.

Then maybe because he thought I wanted to know, he told me that some people who had watched my accident called an ambulance that sent me here. When he saw that it was me, he decided to be the doctor in charge, since Jesse wasn't there.

I was dying to ask about Jesse, but I was afraid of what the answer might be. I know that sounded completely absurd, but I just couldn't explain it away.

The fact that Jesse couldn't visit me because he was with someone else.

'Jesse couldn't be here because his sister has a dancing competition in Sacramento. I've tried calling him, but he must have switched off his phone. But I left a bunch of messages, so don't worry,' Dylan explained, obviously knowing what I was thinking.

Same way Cee Cee always knew, I guess. It's written all over my face.

Then I thought about what Dylan said, and almost laughed out loud. But not because I was happy.

I was right. Jesse was with someone else, just not whom I had guessed. And although I knew that he couldn't have known that I had just been involved in a stupid car accident and was stuck in a hospital, I couldn't help but feel a bit resentful that he wasn't here, waiting for me to wake up.

It was completely selfish, and I felt guilty even blaming him, but…

I just wanted him to be with me. Was that too much to ask?

'Suze?'

Then I realized that Dylan was saying something. I looked up, and saw that he was looking at me, all concerned. His eyes were really blue. It was a great idea for him to dye his hair black because it really brought out his eyes, making them look almost transparent.

Okay, how is it that I could be lying there feeling bad about myself, yet in the next moment started analyzing my doctor's hair style?

I blamed the drugs.

'Do you want me to call anyone else for you? Your parents, your friends?' Dylan repeated, and I looked at his face, instead of his hair.

I thought about his question. Did I really want anyone else around? I knew my mom would freak but I didn't think it was a good idea for her and Andy to be driving here in panic, especially since I just left Carmel a few hours ago. If I got the time right.

And I didn't feel like I should bother Cee, she's already busy with her wedding preparations. Fiona? I didn't think it would be right to ask her to come, and I didn't even know if she was busy with her fiancée or anything.

Suddenly I realized that I'd become a burden. Really, what right did I have to ask anyone else to drop their stuff and come over to visit me? It wasn't like I was in a life or death situation or anything – well, not anymore – and I knew I could handle myself.

They'd probably be mad at me for not telling them about this, but I figured I could tell them later, when I no longer look – and feel – so bad.

'I think I'll just wait for Jesse,' I said, my voice rusty from the dryness.

And I knew about that whole our-relationship-is-secret thing that we had, but I figured no one would think twice about seeing him help out an ex-girlfriend. I mean, he's a nice guy, he would do that just because it was in his nature. To help people.

'Okay,' Dylan replied.

Then he placed the call button in my hand, and told me to press it if I needed anything, since he had to go check on his other patients. I told him I wanted water, and he said he will ask a nurse to bring me more water. Then he told me to rest, because 'you've been through a lot' and he will come and check on me later.

I watched him leave, but I didn't fall asleep. My body still ached in some parts, but my mind was still functioning as far as I could tell.

First thing I thought about was, as hard as it was to believe, not about Jesse.

I was actually thinking back to the accident earlier.

Despite what the logical part of my brain was telling me, the fact that it was impossible for my accident to be intentional, it was totally what I felt. Dylan didn't tell me how the accident happened, but I didn't need him to. Because from what I remembered, my car was hit from behind, which caused it to move forward to the intersection, before the SUV crashed into me. It wasn't the SUV's fault; it was just going on its way when my car crossed its path. But my car wouldn't have crossed its path if it wasn't hit from behind in the first place.

Unless the driver behind me didn't stop in time, but that was impossible. I had stopped my car for at least 5 seconds, which would have given any car behind me enough time to see the red light, see my car and stop.

But if my accident was intentional…that means someone is out to kill me.

For what?

If it was YLN-related, then it didn't make any sense.

One, I have nothing to do with Hotel Twenty whatsoever. My death wouldn't have resulted in YLN getting the hotel anymore than Darren's death had been. Because Robert was still alive, and he was not budging from his decision to keep the hotel, no matter what they do.

So two, if they had suspected anything about me, I would have been third in line after Robert and Clara, if they wanted to get rid of us at all.

Oh my God. Clara. She spoke to me about her suspicions…what if she has already… been rid of?

I needed to call her and tell her to get out of town or something. Because if I couldn't save Robert, the least I could do was save Clara. The only way someone could have suspected me would be if they had listened to my conversation with her, and assumed that I was a journalist out to investigate YLN, and decided to off me before I could do anything further.

And since I was relatively fine during my trip to Carmel and back, the person must have been following Clara instead, when she bumped into me. By that stroke of luck, they got more information than they would have if we hadn't met at the bookstore.

My heart was pounding really fast as I realized this, and I knew I had to do something. So I slowly sat up and reached for the phone on the bedside table when a nurse entered the room, carrying a jug of water with another plastic cup with a straw.

'Miss Simon! You're supposed to be resting!' she said admonishingly, her voice booming in the small room.

She was a big lady, towering over me as she placed the tray on the table, and I felt a bit scared. She reminded me of Sister Ernestine, my teacher back in high school at Junipero Serra Catholic Academy, and I had always been afraid of her, even though I acted like I wasn't.

'I need to call someone,' I said timidly, sitting back on my bed. 'It's really important.'

'Whatever it is, it can wait,' she said firmly, pouring water into the cup and placing the straw in. I wanted to protest, but I was really thirsty, so I just drank the water without complaining.

When I was done, she walked around fixing my blanket and I laid back down, pretending to go to sleep. Once she was satisfied that I was resting, she went out.

I counted to 10 before sitting up, careful that I didn't move my head too fast because it made me feel dizzy, and reached for the phone again. I looked at the instructions for which number to press on the little piece of paper inside the phone cradle, before pressing 9 for outside calls, then 0 for operator.

I asked for the numbers of Jones, Clara and was given 3 different numbers for 3 different Clara Joneses. I only memorized the last number since I didn't have any pen or paper to write the others down.

Oh well. I dialed the number anyway, since I can always call back operator and ask for the other two numbers if this one didn't click.

I waited while it rang before the voicemail came on. Fortunately, it sounded like the Clara Jones I was looking for, so I said who I was and asked her to call me ASAP. I gave my cell phone number along with it, before hanging up.

I felt a little worried that she wasn't at home. Maybe she's still out shopping or something, and I hope she's okay and not lying in some other hospital with a broken leg like me.

Well, even that would be better than lying in a morgue.

After that little piece of activity, I felt a little woozy. I guess I should sleep now. There was nothing more I could do, other than drive to Clara's house and wait until she comes back, something unthinkable with my left leg currently useless.

Maybe when Jesse gets here, I'll tell him everything. He'll know what to do.

I drifted off to drug-induced sleep, thinking about Jesse and whether he had gotten Dylan's message yet.

-0-0-0-

I woke up feeling slightly better, but starving. I never liked hospital food, but did I really have any choice?

I used the call button and when a nurse – a different one than the earlier nurse – came, I told her I was hungry. She said I was lucky that dinner was served just a while ago, so there would probably be some left. Then she went off to get a meal for me.

As I waited, I realized that I was still alone.

I guess Jesse wasn't here yet. Well, duh, Suze. Unless he went to the bathroom or something, his absence was quite obvious.

Disappointed, I decided to think about something else, and so I made a mental list of the people whom I would ask to sign my cast.

I was considering whether to let the postman sign my cast – he's always been really nice to me - when the nurse came with the meal. I asked her for the time, and she told me it was almost 8.15pm. My heart sank, because I knew that the visiting hours were only until 9pm.

Then I remembered that Jesse worked at this hospital, so visiting hours didn't apply to him. I ate my dinner feeling a little happier, especially since the nurse had switched on the TV and The Sixth Sense was showing, leading to me laughing at the scared kid in the most inappropriate places.

After I had finished eating, I had the most terrible realization.

I had to go to the bathroom.

Knowing that I couldn't move around without someone's help, I called for the nurse again, only this time, it was the first nurse, the strict one. But since I couldn't hold it any longer, I told her I needed to go to the bathroom. She helped me out of the bed and walked me to the bathroom, which wasn't that far away since it was connected to the room. But it still felt like forever before I reached there.

I drew the line when she wanted to help me inside the bathroom though. I was all, I can take care of myself. I was wearing just a bra, panties and the hospital gown so I was okay.

When I was, er, relieving myself, the weirdest thing popped into my head.

Dylan saw me in my bra!

Needless to say, that was a very awkward and embarrassing thought. I knew he's a doctor and he's used to seeing people naked and stuff, but…wouldn't it be weird, seeing your best friend's girlfriend in her undies, even if she was unconscious and covered in blood?

Feeling a little stupid, I cleaned myself, washed my hands and limped to the bathroom door.

The nurse was waiting outside, and as she moved to help me, she said, 'You have a visitor.'

My heart leaped, and I almost started to hop to my bed, knowing that Jesse must already be here. Then I froze, thinking how bad I must have looked, and I didn't even check myself in the mirror! I almost turned back to the bathroom, when I saw who my visitor actually was.

I couldn't believe it.

No. Freaking. Way.