Homeless

Epilogue

Numb. Relieved. Tired. I didn't know what I felt, just that I wanted to go home, bury myself under ten blankets and sleep.

I exhausted all my supply of tears on Nathaniel's sweater. Finally, I pulled away and looked up. The left side of his face was scratched, the biggest scrape stretching from his hairline to near his eye.

"Are you okay?" I asked, my throat sore. "Were you hurt in the accident?"

"You're..." Nathaniel shook his head. His eyes shimmered. He gulped and hugged me to him again, his breathing ragged, his cheek pressed to my head. "I'm okay."

"Mark?" I asked.

"He's safe. He's home."

I nodded, wishing I could burrow even closer. I felt so safe. I would never take this feeling for granted again.

"Nathaniel."

Nathaniel raised his head from mine. I glanced over my shoulder. Chris stood nearby, an uncertain medic next to him.

"Hey," Chris said, walking closer. His eyes looked over my face and neck and darkened. "I'm sorry, Daphne."

"It's not your fault," I said, trying my best to give him a smile. It felt lopsided with one side of my face in ruins.

Chris shook his head. He motioned to the ambulance. "You should go get checked in."

Nathaniel squeezed my shoulder, bringing my gaze to him."Let's get you to the hospital."

I really didn't want to go anywhere but home. But the pain was reaching a crescendo, and I knew soon I might not be able to hold it in.

I nodded, but I couldn't take a step away from Nathaniel.

"I'll come with you," Nathaniel said, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. Relieved, I made it to the ambulance on my own two feet before my knees could fail me.

Nathaniel helped me into the ambulance, then he and Chris had a quiet word before he jumped in next to me. I waved at Chris with a smile before the medic closed the door. Poor Chris, he looked beaten up with guilt.

The ride to the hospital was quiet. The medic did some first aid and gave me water, but I didn't want to take the blanket off. I was glad for Nathaniel's presence. He understood what I couldn't put into words, and told the medic I would get checked in the hospital by a female doctor.

It was all a blur after that. The only clear point in it all was Nathaniel.

Once in the hospital, I went through countless exams and scans. All the nurses and the doctor were women, much to my relief.

It was late at night when I was finally settled in a room.

"Can't I just go home?" I asked Nathaniel, tugging on the collar of the hospital gown. It reminded me of when Mark had been hurt. Not very good memories.

He sat down on the bed beside me and sighed. "The doctor wants to keep an eye on you for tonight. She's right to be worried. You were in an accident, and then you were..." he shook his head, the scowl on his face deepening. "You're hurt. A night in the hospital won't hurt."

"Okay," I mumbled. Silence claimed the room. It was a nice room, with its own bathroom. I had used it earlier, and my reflection in the mirror was something out of a horror movie.

The left side of my face was all shades of purple and blue. My lip was split and swollen. My left eye was swollen. A white bandage covered my right cheekbone, where the bullet had grazed. The wound was deep enough to require stitches. It would leave a scar.