“I’m here, sweetheart.”
Soft hands reached for me, but I pushed them away.
“NO!” My shout slammed painfully against my throat. “You’re not my mother — I don’t even know you!”
“Leah, don’t be like this.”
“No! I’m not Leah. Can’t you see?”
“I can see you’re sick, but I’ll help you get better.”
“I want to … to go home,” I sobbed.
“That’s where I’m going to take you, if you’ll just get into the wheelchair—”
“No, no, NO! I want my real mom!”
I wrenched away from her, intense pain hammering my head. I could endure the pain, but not being taken somewhere my parents couldn’t find me. This was all so wrong! I just wanted to climb into my own bed in my own bedroom and feel Mom’s comforting arms around me. I’d been holding onto hope that my family would rescue me, or that I’d wake up suddenly to find myself in my own body.
If I left, I might never find my way back home.
“Leah, be reasonable,” the woman begged. “You know very well I’m your mother. You must stop talking like this … it’s not safe. You’re only making things worse.”
“It can’t get worse.”
“Oh yes it can — horribly.” She pursed her lips and lowered her voice. “Be a good girl and get into the wheelchair. Please, Leah.”
“Don’t call me that! This is all a big mess and I can prove who I really am if you just get me a phone. I’m not your daughter.”
The nurse narrowed his gaze at me, moving around a small table to stand beside the mother. He never took his eyes off me as he whispered to her, “Mrs. Montgomery, would you like me to call Dr. Hodges?”
“That won’t be necessary,” she told him, lifting her shoulders and chin and speaking with refined authority. “I can handle my own daughter. We’ll just need a private moment together, if you don’t mind.”
“Is that wise?” The nurse shot me a suspicious glance, as if I might grow fangs.
Mrs. Montgomery waved her hand, diamonds sparkling off the overhead lights, and insisted that the nurse leave. Once the door was shut and we were alone, she bent over me with an anxious expression. “Leah, you have to cooperate.”
I pursed my lips stubbornly.
“I realize you’re punishing me, and I’ll admit that I may deserve it, but this is not about me. I’m fighting for your life and I can’t do it alone. You have to help, too.”
“Give me a phone.”
“You think your friends can help you more than I can? Well, you’re totally wrong. I’m the only one between you and a long, unpleasant stay in a mental hospital.”
“Mental—” I gulped. “—hospital?”
“That’s what your doctor recommends. He thinks you’re deeply disturbed and need months of psychotherapy.” Her fingers trembled as she grasped my hand. “Is that what you want?”
I shook my head, fear rising like waves threatening to drown me.
“Then behave sensibly. It took all my resources to get the authorization to have you released into my care, but if you don’t cooperate, they’ll send you away for a long time and I won’t be able to stop them. Dr. Hodges has this ridiculous notion that you have multiple personalities and he wants to study you in a confined environment. Your father was ready to go along with this plan, but I insisted that all you need is your mother.”
“I’m … I’m not crazy,” I whimpered.
“Of course you’re not. But whatever you said to Dr. Hodges convinced him that you have disturbing mental issues and could be a danger to yourself and others.”
I bit my lip, tasting salty tears. My nightmare was careening out of control, spiraling down a black hole. Mom, Dad … where are you? Please come get me and make everything better.
But it was the other mom who brushed away stray hairs from my face and squeezed my hand. “Don’t be scared, Leah.”
“I’m not Le—”
She didn’t let me finish. “You don’t have to be brave for me. I know you so well, even if you don’t think I do. I realize I’ve been emotionally unavailable, but I’m changing. You’d be proud of how I stood up to your father, just like you’ve always wanted.” She paused, looking down at me as if she expected me to congratulate her.
I closed my eyes, wishing this unreal world away.
“You’re my miracle.” She spoke gently, still stroking my hair. “You came back from that coma even after the doctors said you were gone forever. I will not let them take you from me. But you have to do two things right now.”
I arched my brows, silently asking, What?
“First, I want you to climb into this wheelchair so I can get you out of this place. Second, it’s imperative for you to behave normally. No more wild talk about not knowing your own family or they’ll lock you away. Can you do that?”
I stared at her through eyes that weren’t my own, shuddering at the threat of a locked room in a mental hospital. I’d seen movies about mental wards with electric shocks and straitjackets, where even the sanest person turned into a drooling zombie. If I told the truth, I was crazy. But if I lied and pretended to be someone I wasn’t, I was sane.
Swallowing hard, I met Leah’s mother’s gaze.
Then I nodded.
8
I realized later, when I woke up in a beautiful and unfamiliar room, that despite my agreement to cooperate, the “vitamins” Mrs. Montgomery instructed the nurse to give me before leaving the hospital were in fact sleeping pills. I vaguely remembered half-crawling into the wheelchair — embarrassed because the nightgown was open in the back and I was mooning the male nurse — then I was out.
The silky, butter-yellow sheets were a definite improvement over the starchy white hospital sheets. And the four-poster bed with its frilly lace canopy was right out of the “Cool Stuff I Can’t Afford” magazines I flipped through when no one else was around. Oooh, so very luxurious. Unfortunately I couldn’t enjoy myself. I just wanted out.
For a desperate moment, I prayed that this was all an outrageous prank. I was the unknowing victim on an extreme reality show like Punk’d. Any moment, Alyce and Dustin would pop out and shout, “Gotcha!”
Only when I glanced down at myself, and saw wavy blonde hair over an elegant, ivory satin nightgown, reality slapped me hard. No matter how many times I wanted to believe this wasn’t happening, it was.
Emotionally I was a wreck, but physically I felt better. Sleep had cleared the cobwebs from my brain and I could move my arms with only minor pain. I tested my legs, wiggling one and then the other. Not bad, just a little stiff. I drew back the gauzy bed curtains, pushed away a satin comforter, and slowly lowered my legs to the plush carpet.
This exertion was more tiring than I’d expected. I paused to catch my breath. Then I lifted my head and looked — really looked — around the spacious room. Despite the utter mess of my life, I couldn’t help but be awed.
Way gorgeous room! Ornate white-gold vanity dresser, entertainment center with everything electronic imaginable, oil paintings by famous artists I’m sure Alyce would know, an L-shaped dark gold couch, and lace-draped picture windows. I had a wild urge to fling open the closet, check out the drawers, and try on all Leah’s clothes. You can bet she’d have an amazing wardrobe: designer everythings from oh-so-fab stores where under normal circumstances I couldn’t even afford to window shop. But these were far from normal circumstances. I was still reeling from the weirdness of being Leah.
A full-length mirror seemed to beckon from across the room.
Like a sleepwalker, I moved toward the mirror.
And I studied Leah.
She looked unusually pale, and younger than I remembered from school. Even without makeup she was stunning: slim, with wavy white-blonde hair and exotic long-lashed blue eyes. Her creamy skin was flawless, free of the pimples that plagued me whenever I was on my period. Her slender arms tapered down to elegant French-tipped nails, and underneath the silky nightgown, tiny, cherry-red polished toenails poked out.