Coma Girl: part 3 (Kindle Single) by Stephanie Bond Read Free Book Online Page B

Everyone is rooting for me, and I’m being held up as a victim of a drunk driver, a victim of pro athlete elitism, even a victim of a healthcare system that has no good place for long-term care patients with short-term needs. Coma Girl seems to have captured the imagination and the heart of most Americans… except for Duncan Wheeler. Unless he’s been living under a rock, he has to know about the baby, has to have done the math in his head and know it’s his. The fact that he’s staying away sends a message loud and clear that he doesn’t want anything to do with me, or the baby.
    “Braves and Nationals at home today,” Jack said, but he sounded distant and distracted.
    I was thinking about a baby and how my life is forever changed. I wonder what has his mind occupied?
     
     
     

September 19, Monday
     
     
    “I WOULD’VE APPRECIATED a heads up,” ADA Spence said, “before you made the announcement on national television.”
    “It wasn’t my idea,” my father said.
    “Everyone knows that,” my mother said, and not as a compliment.
    “You know about the baby now,” David Spooner said. “So what are you doing to do?”
    “I can’t do anything until Young’s blood alcohol content lab results are confirmed.”
    “And if they come back again at .01 above the legal limit?” Sidney asked.
    “If the results are the same, or higher, then we have two victims instead of one, and we’ll go after him with all the might of the D.A.’s office.”
    “Good,” my mother said. “All we want is justice for Marigold and the baby.”
    “How will the Falcons play into this?” my dad asked. “Keith Young is having a great season so far. I can’t turn on the news without seeing his face.”
    “It’ll be touchy, but the owners and coaching staff want to do the right thing. Just keep in mind that allowing Young to play might be the best thing for Marigold and the baby.”
    “How’s that?” my dad demanded.
    David Spooner coughed politely. “If Keith Young continues to play, his net worth will be higher.”
    “Which means,” Sidney added, “the monetary award from a civil case would be higher.”
    “But only if the criminal case is successful?”
    “We can still file a civil suit regardless of the outcome of the criminal trial, or even if charges don’t go forward,” Spooner said. “But it’ll be stronger going in with a conviction on our side.”
    I noticed his sly insertion of “we” and “our.”
    A gonging noise sounded, sending a strange vibration through my brain.
    “Sorry,” Sidney said, rummaging noisily through her bag. “I need to take this call.”
    “Now?” David asked.
    “It concerns school,” Sidney said evenly. “I’ll take it in the hall.”
    She left the room, and the discussion resumed, but I tuned it out.
    Something about the gonging ringtone had seemed familiar, but the memory that went along with it remained tantalizingly out of reach. And the more I chased it, the farther it receded.
     
     

September 20, Tuesday
     
     
    “CROWD IN AROUND bed three,” Dr. Tyson said. “Move the balloons aside.”
    Ah, time for show and tell.
    “Patient is a twenty-eight-year-old female recovering from a traumatic brain injury received in a car accident approximately sixteen weeks ago. She was unconscious when she arrived at Brady. She underwent surgery to relieve bleeding on the brain. She has not yet regained consciousness. Also, the patient is sixteen weeks pregnant. Questions? Gaynor, go.”
    “What is the state of the brain bleed?”
    “Stable and healing, some swelling remains. Streeter, go.”
    “Is the patient verbal?”
    “No. Sayna, go.”
    “Does the patient still exhibit brainwave activity?”
    “Yes. Goldberg, go.”
    “Does the patient respond to commands to blink or to move her extremities?”
    Tyson hesitated.
    “Sometimes,” a voice piped up.
    Dr. Jarvis, my hero.
    “I’ve got this, Jarvis,” Dr. Tyson said. “Sometimes,” she repeated.
    “More