© 2022 Phylicia Joannis
It felt like déjà vu. I opened my eyes surrounded by hospital equipment, a sharp-eyed doctor, and Zinnia. Marcos hovered awkwardly over my feet at the end of the bed.
“My hero.” I smiled at him. He blushed and I laughed. I felt sleepy, my brain felt heavy and slow. So did my arms and legs. I tried to move them, but it took ages just to rotate my arm.
“Welcome back.” Zinnia smiled at me. “I’m so glad you’re okay, kiddo.”
“Did everyone make it out?” I asked.
“Make it out of where?” Zinnia gave me a puzzled look.
“The tunnel. Is everyone ok?”
Zinnia nodded. “Yes, everyone’s fine. But that was months ago, Miracle.”
I started to protest, confused. But then I remembered. My mother’s face. The warmth of her embrace. Then her eyes, looking down at me. Those eyes were cold enough to freeze water. I’d actually felt the moment when my heart stopped beating, when I stopped breathing. Then I remembered who she told me my father was.
“Zinnia!” I gasped. “I need to find Simon.”
“Simon?” Zinnia looked bemused.
“Simon Lowe. I need to find Simon Lowe.”
“What do you need him for?”
I opened my mouth to tell her, but then I stopped. My mother had tried to kill me. What would she do to my friends? I couldn’t put them at risk. A thought struck me. Why wasn’t I dead?
“How did I get here?” I asked Zinnia. She looked to Marcos, who squirmed beneath her gaze.
“I uh, found you wrapped in a bag. In a dumpster in my old hood.”
It shouldn’t have, but it stung. Thrown away. Again. “Does my mother know I’m here?” I asked.
Zinnia shook her head and pulled out her cell phone. “No. Did you want me to contact her?”
“No!” I shouted, much too forcefully. “I don’t want her to know where I am, okay?”
“Okay.” Zinnia studied my face. “Miracle, what happened to you? Do you know how you ended up in that dumpster?”
I shook my head no. It wasn’t a total lie. I had no idea who physically put me there.
“What about meeting your mother?” Zinnia continued. “How did that go?”
“Not at all the way I’d hoped.” I laughed dryly.
“I’m so sorry.” Zinnia took my hand in hers. A woman I didn’t recognize entered the room and handed Marcos and Zinnia drinks.
“Hot coffee for you.” She passed a drink to Zinnia. “And Gatorade for you.” I looked to Marcos, who took the Gatorade with a nod.
“Oh, Miracle, you two haven’t met.” Marcos pushed the woman forward. “This is Penelope Rodriguez. But everyone calls her Penny. She’s my big sis. She drove us to the hospital.”
“Thank you, Penny.”
She nodded and gave my leg a gentle squeeze. “I’m glad you’re okay, Miracle. I’m on my way to work, so I’ll get going.”
Penny turned to go, and I looked to Zinnia. “I need to find Simon. I think I need a lawyer.”
“I can find you a lawyer, Miracle, if that’s what you need. I doubt Simon would give any of us the time of day.”
“I need Simon Lowe,” I stated firmly. “Besides, he owes me.”
Penny walked back over to us. “Did you say Simon Lowe? As in the round, bald-headed, self-absorbed lawyer? That Simon Lowe?”
“Yeah, that’s him.” Zinnia nodded. “You know him?”
“I worked for him, temporarily. I can call him for you, if you really need him. He may not take your call, but I’m pretty sure he’ll take mine. Be careful with him, though. He’s a wily one.”
“I know.” I nodded my head. “But right now I need him.”
“For what?” Zinnia asked.
“It’s . . . personal.” I couldn’t make eye contact with her. I didn’t have to, though. The hurt was evident in her voice.
“Ok, then. Penny can help you with Simon. I’ve got to finish my shift and head home.”
“I’m sorry, Zinnia,” I said softly.
“No need to be sorry,” Zinnia replied. “We’re not family or anything. I understand.”
I hated for her to feel that way, but I couldn’t have her involved with what I was going to do next. I cared too much about her. I watched her leave, wondering if I’d be able to make it up to her. I hoped so. I turned to Penny, whose phone was still in her hand.
“Penny, I’ll take that call now.”
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