Chapter Four
*You are now Mal Fallon*
Nat has been out of the hospital for three weeks now, after spending two weeks in the hospital. We already lived together in the same apartment, so I just took her home when she left the hospital.
Most of the cuts and bruises have healed, leaving scars of course, but at least they won't hurt her anymore. The bulky casts on her wrist and ankle have been replaced with little pharmacy store brand splints, and her ribs have healed just fine. That's not what concerned me though. What concerned me was that she still had yet to talk. I can't even imagine what she went through that made it so scary to want to speak. Some days, it would seem like she was going to speak. Her mouth would begin to open, but then it would abruptly close and she would revert back to writing on the white board I bought for her.
I would hide the board sometimes, so she would have to use her voice to communicate. However, she is still the Mossad crossbreed with the FBI, highly trained spy. She always found it. But tonight, I have a plan. Earlier today I asked her a question. I don't even remember what the question was. But I do know that she was about to speak. This has been happening constantly throughout the day, so I feel like she is finally about to speak.
Before dinner she approached me in the kitchen, quiet as a mouse. "Well at least she can still walk around like a ninja." I thought to myself. When we first met, she used to be able to scare the crap out of me by sneaking up behind me like that. However, after spending two years with her, I've developed a "sixth sense" for Natara.
Well, technically, I'm using one of my five senses. She always has the smell of coffee and cinnamon, a scent I can now smell from a mile away. Well, probably not a mile away, but I do now know when she is near me at least.
"I know you're behind me." I say out loud, before turning around to face her.
She leans against the refrigerator, arms folded against her chest, with a mischievous smile playing across her lips.
"Before you ask, it's because of your scent." I state quickly, dismissing the look of confusion that flickered across her face for a few seconds. "Anyway, what do you want for dinner?" I question. Natara instantly reached down for her white board and marker. No sooner did it get into her hands, I plucked the marker from her hand.
"Use your words." I tell her. In response, she simply raised her hand, ready to start signing to me in sign language. I gently reached over and eased her arm down.
"You know I don't understand any of that. Come on Nat, talk! I know you can!" I saw gingerly in a pleading voice. "Come on Nat, Try to say something!" When I had stated the last part of my sentence, I see complete terror flash through her eyes. She freezes up for a few moments, as if paralyzed, before jerking her arm away from me and turns on her heels, sprinting for the stairs. She trips a few times running up the stairs before hiding in the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.