When We Were Still Human by Vaughn Foster (best ereader for textbooks .txt) 📕

to work with old people when I graduate! I’ll be in delivery!”

“Well, you’ll still have to deal with the mothers who are literally getting split open,” Britt said. “Believe me, you would rather have a dozen of those old ladies than deal with me when I was pushing Taylor out two years ago.” She shivered, then took a sip of her drink.

“At least you’d be too drugged up to fight me,” Megan muttered. “Wow, Val. They not feed you during the interrogation last night?”

Val looked down to see three burger wrappers, the box for the chicken sandwich, and a now empty nuggets carton. She blinked in surprise, then shrugged. “I guess I’m just really hungry.”

“I guess so,” Britt laughed. “I’ve never seen you eat more than half a sandwich. You have the stomach of a mouse.”

“Hey!” Val protested. “I deserve it. Plus, I’m going running tonight so it all evens out.” She shot her friend a mischievous smile, then proceeded to bag up the trash. “Now if you'll excuse me, I need to, um... ‘recover from my trauma’ and ‘rest from the shock.’" She added heavy air quotes.

“Whatever!” Megan called, standing up and pushing back her chair.

“Maybe you should go with her.” Britt smirked then bumped Megan on the arm. “She’s injured. She might need some help getting dressed.”

Laughing at the ensuing argument, Val waved goodbye then strode back towards the hospital.

Chapter 2

Slamming the locker shut, Val shoved her scrubs into her bag with a sigh. She rubbed her temples and took a deep, focused breath. Maybe her dad was right. She needed a real day off. The odd part was that she still wasn’t entirely sure what had happened. There was a hazy image of passing security and police officers. A nurse cleaning up her forehead; basic concussion tests... Then came the droves of security and hospital officials, clip boards, and forms.

Quick footsteps snatched her attention back to the locker room. A feeling of déjà vu rushed over. It was dark… Wind was hitting her face. Running. She was running somewhere and—”

“Val!”

Snapping back, Val lifted her head to see a teary-eyed Patricia running towards her.

“Val, you’re okay!”

Before she could react, the nurse had lunged down and wrapped her in an ever-familiar bear hug.

“The Mom of the West Wing.”

Last year on Val’s birthday, Patricia had baked her an entire box of oatmeal raisin cookies—her favorite. It was also Patricia who took her out the year prior, before she even turned twenty-one.

“Mija, I can’t let you get alcohol poisoning on your birthday! I’ll show you how to drink right!”

“Hey, Patricia,” Val managed, awkwardly patting her back a few times. She loosened her grip and they straightened up. Patricia wiped tears. Val bit down guilt. The woman was this shaken on her behalf.

Patricia chewed her lip and shook her head in a daze. “I’m sorry, I should have been there. You left before I could do anything. I didn’t know what happened, no one else saw you—then this!”

Her hands moved as fast as her mouth—typical Patricia—then ran through her dark, greying curls. Her shoulders racked with heavy sobs. Val couldn’t quite ignore the feeling that she was missing something.

“Then last night…”

Val puzzled at the word then, but stayed silent.

“I don’t know what Tyler was thinking, leaving you with a patient alone. Student nurses are always supposed to have a supervisor. Always! I was off. I could’ve worked the double, but after that Wednesday morning—”

Morning?

“I thought I was going crazy from the hours. If I had been there, this wouldn't have happened.” She motioned to the gauze around Val’s forehead.

“Don’t worry about it…” Val firmly took the woman’s hands .“Stuff like this happens.” She tried to reassure Patricia with the same smile she’d given to patients, but now the nurse looked confused.

“Val, I thought you died.”

Val stared dumbfounded. She played the sentence over. “I’m sorry?”

“You don’t remember? Ay, Dios mío, Dios mío…” Patricia grabbed her head, rising to her feet as she quickly paced the room. “Val, yesterday morning you stumbled in here half dead. Your clothes were torn to shreds and you were soaked in blood.”

“No, Patricia…” Val’s mouth went dry. She had no idea what the nurse was talking about, but she was starting to scare her. Blood? Cuts? It was impossible. “I woke up and…”

And what? What about that morning? She had woken up at noon—five hours later than normal—then barely made it to her shift on time. But before that? She racked her brain and a chill shot down her spine.

She couldn’t remember anything.

“I- I remember the library, Tuesday night…” she stammered, trying to wet her tongue and force words to form. “I got back to my apartment at…around seven. I needed to go running?”

Val looked down at her wrist. The Fitbit was gone. She hadn’t taken it off in days, not even when she went to sleep. She stumbled back into the lockers. She felt heavy. It was like her body was a boulder, rapidly crushing in on itself. Her hands shook and every bead of sweat crawled over her skin like a wet film.

She took a deep breath. “That was a day ago, Patricia.” She tried to keep her voice even. “Why- why am I just hearing about this now?”

“You just ran out!” Patricia muttered something in Spanish, then gave an exasperated sigh. “No one else saw you come in, and when I went to security, they couldn’t find any evidence of what I was telling them. I tried calling, but it went straight to voicemail. I didn’t know if I was going crazy or…”

Patricia’s voice faded as Val fought to remember what had happened. Breathing was a concerted effort. The short gasps at each rise and fall of her chest managed