❝ –– perhaps it’s true that things can change in a day. and when they do, those few dozen hours, like the salvaged remains of a burned house—the charred clock, the singed photograph, the scorched furniture—must be resurrected from the ruins and examined. and suddenly, they become the bleached bones of a story.
“I bet you are,” she growled, annoyed by Teddy’s smile. Carter knew what they did to patients who wouldn’t cooperate, and she sure as h e l l wouldn’t be tied down like a damn animal. The brunette sighed hating that the older doctor was right. The longer she was in this damn hospital, the higher her chances of seeing her aunt or her mother. Carter laid back down on the gurney, holding out her arm for Teddy, “Take my blood, do whatever the hell you need, just p l e a s e get me out of here,” she begged.
“Can do,” Teddy
sighed, unable to help the reproach
in her voice. This young girl may have been born into
bad news, but that didn’t mean she was doomed to it.
Carter’s own mother was the perfect example of bright
days outnumbering the dark, of standing triumphant
after a fall. If only Carter could see the potential in that
mind of hers — maybe then, she wouldn’t feel the
need to destroy herself like that. But Teddy knew
better than to say anything, for she bore no right to
Carter’s story. Even so, it didn’t stop her from trying
another way. As she inserted the IV with a trained
hand, she murmured: “Carter — there are people who
want to help you, you know. All you have to do is ask,
and asking doesn’t make you weak. You seem like a
smart young lady, and just because you’ve made
mistakes doesn’t mean you should let them define
you.”
