Safe

A steady beeping filtered through her ears, entering her head. She shook her eyes, frowning and then slowly, she opened her eyes. 

The ceiling was white, too white, her vision blurred. Inés blinked rapidly, her lashes fluttering against the bright light that stung her eyes. It ok adjusted to the surroundings. A steady beeping sound echoed beside her, she turned her head. A machine was beside her. It took her a full minute to realize she was in a hospital, but how did she get here? 

Her throat burned when she tried to speak.

“Miguel?” Her voice cracked, barely above a whisper. 

The smell of antiseptic lingered in the room, the thin hospital gown clinging to her skin. She turned her head, pain shot through her neck. Her head throbbed from turning it. The walls were painted white, a sofa sat before her. The table had apples and bananas. The curtains were half-drawn. A faint shadow of trees moved beyond the window. She tried to sit up but her body disobeyed. She felt weak all over. 

Then, like a wave crashing against a fragile shore, the memories came.

The sudden divorce. 

The running.

The shouting.

The betrayal.

Miguel. 

Her breath caught as everything from the past few days slammed back into her mind,the betrayal, the panic, those gangsters and the stranger that saved her. Instinctively, her hand went up, it trembled as she pressed it to her stomach. She could have swore she saw blood on her skirt when the men attacked her. 

“No,” she whispered. Then louder. “No… no, please.”

Tears streamed down her face, raw and silent at first, then shaking sobs tore from her chest until her cries filled the empty room.

---

Emilio sat in the stiff leather chair. His knuckles were white. His gaze fixed on the table, his eyes darted across the table nervously. 

The doctor was a small, stern woman. Her grey hair was pulled back tight. She did not smile, she leaned on the table. 

“She is lucky to be alive,” the doctor said, tapping the file on her desk to empathize her point. “She's malnourished. Anemic. There are bruises on her ribs. This is not how a man treats his wife, Señor Cortez.”

Emilio’s jaw tightened. “I know.”

“She lost the baby,” the doctor continued, her voice a little softer. “It had been so long and she never came to a hospital. That alone could have killed her.”

Emilio said nothing. He didn't know how to explain Inés is not his wife the doctor is already suspicious enough of him with her condition, if he says she's not his wife. She might call the police on him to accuse him of kidnapping someone. 

He then resolved to agree with whatever she said. He told her she ran away from home when she caught him cheating. The doctor believed it without thinking twice. Let her think Inés was his wife. The truth was too complicated. He had found her on the side of the road, broken and alone. He didn’t even know her name.

“It will not happen again,” he said, the guilt thick in his throat.

“Oh please do Mr Cortez. Right now, she needs you the most. She must have had a lot of hopes for the pregnancy. It's not uncommon for women to be devastated. You have to stay by her side to comfort her. Take her on dates, take her shopping. You can also....”

The door flew open. A nurse stood there, breathless. “Doctor, the patient. She’s awake and she’s screaming.”

They both shot to their feet, running out of the room at once. 

---

The sound hit him first. A raw, shattered scream that tore through the hallway. A shattering sound of metal falling followed it. What's she throwing? 

“Where is my baby?” Inés cried, she stood at the edge of the room, pointing a scissors. She dared anyone to come closer. “Where is my child?!”

The doctor rushed into the room. “Señora, you must listen. There were complications. You lost the child and...”

“Liar!” Inés screamed, thrashing her head. Her hair was stuck to her tear-streaked face. “You’re lying to me!”

Emilio stopped in the doorway, frozen. This was not the quiet, broken woman he had carried in here. Slowly he entered the room, everyone steered clear of her. She stood at the edge of the room pointing, armed with scissors. 

He watched her fall apart. Her trembling hands pressed against her empty stomach. Her voice was hoarse. Something broke inside him.

“Everyone out,” Emilio said. His voice was low, but it cut through the noise.

The doctor turned. “Señor Cortez, I don’t think—”

“Now.”

They left. The door clicked shut, leaving them alone in the quiet, broken only by her sobs.

“My baby…” she whispered, still pointing the scissors. “I want my baby…”

Emilio walked towards her slowly, he raised his hand. 

“Miss , you have to calm down.”

His voice was soothing, Inés was taken aback for a second. In two strides, he reached her and snatched the scissors. He threw it to the bed. She gasped and lunged for it but Emilio pulled her into his arms.

She collapsed against him, she didn't fight back. His strong arms wrapped around her, holding her in place. Her tears were hot on his neck. His hand settled gently on her back. “Shhh,” he murmured into her hair. “You’re safe now.” He stroked her hair softly. 

But she was no longer listening, she cried louder. Her body shook with sobs she could no longer control.

And then she felt it.

A sharp, cold prick on her neck. It left as quickly as it came in.

Her eyes flew open in confusion.

She turned her head weakly. She saw a gloved hand pull back. A syringe flashed under the bright lights.

“What…?” she slurred.

The room began to swim. Her limbs grew heavy. Her grip on his shirt relaxed. Slowly darkness began to blur her vision. She fell backwards but he caught her before she could fall. 

The last thing she heard was his voice, soft and close to her ear.

“Rest, Inés,” he whispered. “You are safe with me.”