Page 34 of Death

I scoop more into the spoon, and when I lift my hand, Ciara opens her mouth again.

I feed her two more spoonfuls before I say, “Take hold of the spoon.” It takes a few seconds before she unclenches her tight fist, and I’m able to place the spoon between her fingers. “Feed yourself.”

She lowers her head again and stares at the spoon for long minutes.

When it’s clear she’s not going to feed herself, I take hold of her hand and move it, scooping some soup onto the spoon before lifting it to her mouth.

Her gaze darts to mine, a pleading expression flitting over her beautiful features.

“I want you to eat the soup,” I say to encourage her.

Her movements are jerky, and it looks like she’s battling with herself before she takes the bite.

I give her hand a squeeze and smile before moving her hand back down to the bowl to get more soup. It takes a minutes to get her to swallow two spoonfuls, but then tears begin to well in her eyes.

I tilt my head, keeping my expression gentle. “Do you want to talk to me?”

She lowers her head again, and the tear splats onto the tiled floor.

It takes one hell of a swing at my heart, and I have to suppress the urge to comfort her.

“The soup is really nice,” she suddenly whispers.

“It’s all for you,” I say as I let go of her hand. “Eat for me, Ciara.”

It takes close to an hour before I get her to take a bite on her own.

“I’m so proud of you,” I praise her, and it has her eyes lifting to my face. I see some relief easing the tension from her features. Taking a chance, I ask, “Can you tell me anything about yourself?”

Her head lowers again, and she stares at the empty bowl. When it’s clear she’s not going to say anything, I try again, asking, “How old are you?”

The spoon slips from her fingers and clatters onto the floor, then she begins to shake her head, her features tightening as she whimpers, “I was twenty-six. I’m not sure anymore.”

When I lift my arm to offer her some comfort, she moves fast, crawling back under the bed.

Letting out a heavy breath, I pick up the tray and climb to my feet. My legs and ass protest from sitting for such a long time on the cold tiles, and it has me setting the tray down on the table before I pull the covers and sheets off the bed. Dragging the mattress to the floor, I say, “Move aside so I can place the mattress under the bed for you.”

Ciara scoots out the other side and watches as I position the mattress on the floor before covering it haphazardly with the sheet.

“You can move back.” I wait as she cautiously crawls onto the makeshift bed, then I push the covers closer. “Cover yourself.”

She does as she’s told, and I feel a fuck-ton better that she’s listening to me.

I climb to my feet again and walk to the armchair, taking a seat while thinking we made a lot of progress today.

At least we didn’t have to sedate her.

Chapter 11

CIARA

Waking up, I’m surprised when I don’t see Santiago, Dr. Pires, or Emma, the nurse.

Yesterday, Emma told me I’ve been at the hospital for two weeks. She also gave me the date, and I tried to work out how long Nolan had me. I think it was for nine months.

I’m again struck with shock, and a forlorn emotion ghosts through my chest.

Things are very confusing, and I’m struggling to make sense of everything.