Chapter 4 - Awakening in the White Room
The smell of antiseptic and clean linens replaced the heavy, sickening odor of natural gas.
When I opened my eyes, the harsh fluorescent lights of the hospital room overhead made me flinch. An IV line was taped securely to the back of my right hand, pumping saline and electrolytes into my veins. A steady, rhythmic beep from the heart monitor kept pace with my breathing.
“She’s waking up,” a calm, professional voice said.
A nurse stepped into my field of vision, checking the monitor before shining a small light into my pupils. “Easy there, Amelia. You’re at Providence Portland Medical Center. You suffered mild carbon monoxide inhalation and severe exhaustion, but your vitals are stabilizing nicely.”
I swallowed hard; my throat felt like sandpaper. “What time is it?”
“It’s almost eleven in the morning,” the nurse replied softly, adjusting my blanket. “You’ve been asleep for four hours. You have visitors waiting outside in the hallway, by the way. Security had to ask them to step back twice because they were trying to rush the door.”
My stomach tightened. “Who?”
“Your parents and your brother. They look... well, they look like they’ve seen a ghost.”
I turned my head away, staring blankly out the window at the gray Portland sky. The thought of seeing their faces, of hearing their hollow apologies born out of public humiliation rather than genuine care, made my chest ache worse than the gas poisoning.
“Tell them I’m resting,” I said flatly. “And tell security that I do not wish to have visitors.”
“I can do that, honey,” the nurse said with quiet understanding. “Take all the time you need.”
She stepped out of the room, closing the heavy wooden door behind her.
Through the narrow glass window in the door, I could see shadows moving. My mother’s face appeared briefly in the glass, pale, tear-stained, and frantic. She pressed her palms against the glass as if she could reach through it.
I didn't look at her. I closed my eyes and let the steady beep of the monitor wash over me.
Outside these four walls, the world was spinning out of control for them. By noon, the morning news segment had gone viral online. Thousands of viewers across the country were tearing into Troy and my parents for their callousness. Social media sleuths had unearthed the group chat screenshots, plastering them across X and Facebook with captions branding them the most toxic family of the year.
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Their reputation, their social standing, and their precious dinners with the Hendersons were burning to the ground.
And for the first time in my life, I didn't care.
