I nod as she gives me a small smile, hangs my chart on a hook, then walks out of the room.
—
A short time later, Hannah and Tyson appear in my doorway with furtive expressions.
“Good morning,” Hannah says. “We brought you a cappuccino. Extra hot.”
“Thank you,” I say. “I’m dying for some coffee.”
She hands me the cup and I raise it to my lips, inhaling the delicious scent, then taking a long sip.
“That might be the best thing I’ve ever tasted,” I say.
“Wait till you try these croissants.” Tyson smiles, then asks how I’m feeling.
“A bit sore,” I say.
“I bet,” he says.
I don’t know what to say, so I give them a rundown on my doctor’s report, minus the sex part. They both nod, listening intently. When I’m finished, I brace myself for the inevitable questions about what, exactly, happened. At the very least, I expect them to mention our argument or explain how they found me.
But they don’t go there with any of it. Not that morning or during any of their following visits that day. At first, I’m relieved, but as the hours pass, their silence is unnerving.
Maybe they know how ashamed I already am. Maybe they feel too much guilt of their own for lying to me about my sister. Maybe they are just waiting for me to broach the subject. I know I need to—and that I also need to call my agent—but I can’t quite find the courage.
—
That evening, Hannah and Tyson get permission to take me outside in a wheelchair. The sky is filled with stars. There has still been no mention of our fight or anything else that happened during those blacked-out hours. As we sit in silence, enjoying the night air, Alessandro walks up to us with a big pink teddy bear.
“You’re just the woman I’m looking for,” he says, handing me the bear.
I cradle it in my arms and tell him thank you.
Alessandro smiles, then pulls a Sharpie out of his breast pocket. “May I be the first to sign your cast?”
“Yes, please,” I say, watching as he uncaps the pen and scrawls his signature across my forearm.
“You know, Lainey,” Tyson says, “this guy led the search for you.”
It’s the most detail I’ve been given about those missing hours of my life, and I am filled with simultaneous shame and gratitude.
“Thank you,” I say. “So much.”
“Prego,” he says with a small bow. “We’re just happy that you’re okay.”
We chat for a while longer before Alessandro says he has to go. Once it’s just the three of us again, my heart fills with increasing dread, and my stomach turns in somersaults. I can feel the conversation coming, and I know that even if they don’t bring it up, I need to face the music. All of it.
“Well. I guess I better call my agent tomorrow,” I say.
Tyson nods, then says, “Yeah. You probably should do that.”
“I’m going to lose my role,” I say, glancing down at Alessandro’s signature on my cast.
I look back up in time to see Hannah’s sympathetic expression.
“Yeah. I don’t remember the Pigeon Girl having a cast on her arm,” Tyson says. At first, I think he’s attempting to lighten the mood, but he doesn’t smile. Clearly nothing about this is a joking matter.
“And I’m guessing the Paris leg of our trip is out, too?” I ask.
“For now, yes,” Hannah says.
After a painfully long stretch of silence, I give my friends a pleading look. “Guys. Please. Talk to me. Lecture me. Yell at me. Say something.”
Tyson stares into my eyes and says, “We’re not going to do that, Lainey. This has to come from you.”
Hannah gives a somber nod in solidarity.
I take a deep breath, searching for the right words. Any words.
“I know I drink too much,” I finally force myself to say. “At least I do when I’m upset.”
Tyson nods, then says, “It’s a relief to hear you say that. Because we’re really worried about you.”
“Worried how? Do you think I’m an alcoholic?”
“Do you think you are?” Tyson replies.
“I don’t think so…. I mean, I don’t drink alone or in the morning or at work…. And there are some days when I don’t drink at all,” I say, although those days are few and far between.
