Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 124341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 124341 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 622(@200wpm)___ 497(@250wpm)___ 414(@300wpm)
“So far away from the hospital?” Autumn asked. “How will I visit my friends?”
Dr. Murphy stopped writing, adjusting his glasses again and meeting her eyes. “The truth is, Autumn, that it’s not the easiest task to find available housing for teenagers in the system. We were lucky to find a gentleman willing and also up-to-date on all his inspections and paperwork.”
A gentleman? They were sending a teenage girl to live on her own with a man? Would anyone be checking to see if she felt safe? The walls of Mercy were all Autumn had ever known. She had no clue how she’d survive out there…with a gentleman.
Dr. Murphy paused and then began writing again before speaking. “It’s also probably better, as far as a clean slate, to put some distance between yourself and this hospital.” He stopped writing, placing the pen down and offering her a thin smile. “Perhaps even necessary.”
Her stomach dropped. “But everyone I know is here.” And something bad is happening. Something I’m still trying to figure out. And him. He was here. Somewhere very close by. Maybe even in the building next door.
There were so many confusing concerns and a hundred questions barreling full speed through her mind. She wanted to begin shouting them, demanding answers, pleading for someone to make this make sense.
“What about my books?” was all she managed to whisper. They’d been donated to the hospital by a charity, and each child had been allowed to pick a few to keep as their own. She had so little else that only belonged to her.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to leave those behind as there’s only time to pack the essentials. But books can be replaced, and the other children will enjoy them.”
The door burst open. Autumn was startled as a group of nurses entered, Genie, who was in front, holding a cake lit with candles, her smile glowing as tears shimmered in her eyes. The nurse behind her blew a paper party horn, further startling Autumn as they all began singing “Walking on Sunshine,” the song that had become the unofficial anthem of celebration at Mercy many years before. She hadn’t heard it in a long while. There weren’t many opportunities for celebration there.
Genie took her hand and pulled her to her feet as another nurse held the brightly lit cake. Genie pulled her into her arms, squeezing tightly and whispering, “So happy for you, kiddo. We’re all going to miss you.” She let go and nodded to the cake.
Autumn’s head spun, and she used what breath she had to blow out the candles as the nurses applauded and exclaimed words of happiness and celebration, bouncing Autumn from person to person.
It felt surreal, and for a moment, she believed she was in one of those vivid dreams Dr. Murphy had just spoken of. Only, as he’d said, the medication caused those. And Autumn no longer had it in her system.
Tears flowed as she hugged the women who had served as surrogate mothers to her, all in one way or another. And her heart mourned again that Salma wasn’t there. I need you, Salma. Where are you?
She was offered cake, but she couldn’t eat a bite, so the nurses hugged her again, offering well-wishes and filing out, off to the lounge, she supposed, where they’d celebrate her but mostly the fact that every great once in a while, there was good news within the walls of Mercy Hospital.
Dr. Murphy glanced at his watch and grabbed a slip of paper off his desk, handing it to her. She’d collapsed back into her chair once the last nurse left. He offered her his hand, and she took it as he helped her to her feet. She didn’t have to feign weakness. She felt half out of her body, shaky and unsteady. “A nurse has packed your things, and a car is waiting in front. You have about fifteen minutes to say a quick goodbye to a few friends, and then you have to be off. Time to leave Mercy Hospital far behind and begin your new life. We wish you godspeed, Autumn.”
Chapter Nine
He ran his hand over the soft red velvet cover, pulling on the satin ribbon that held it closed. The book fell open, its pages filled with what he knew must be her handwriting. It was small and surprisingly loopy. He wasn’t sure why that surprised him, but it did. She just didn’t seem like a loopy person. He’d have expected her handwriting to be bold. His eyes ran over the words, finding the uppercase S’s and the a’s and the m’s. That’s what it would look like if she wrote my name.
He read a few lines near the top of a middle page. How do you build a temple that takes a hundred years to build? How do you conquer time? How do you overcome death? How do you eat an elephant?