“What do you remember?” Annabelle asked, kneeling at the side of the bed, her hand hovering awkwardly between the empty spot of the bed and holding tightly onto Petra’s hand. Petra wasn’t entirely sure what she would prefer.
“Not much,” Petra offered, sliding a little up her bed, trying to sit up a little straighter as best she could. “I’m Petra. You’re Annabelle. That boy standing in the corner not saying anything is Jonah. I know you—but I don’t know how, or if I trust you, or even whether or not I should. I know something is wrong. I do plan on figuring it out.”
“Right,” Annabelle said softly, “Right. Of course. You have to figure it out. You wouldn’t just believe us—because I suppose that wouldn’t be very you.” She offered Petra a soft grin. Petra had hurt her feelings—and she did feel bad about that, but at the same time…she didn’t. “I’m gunna go,” Annabelle said suddenly, standing up quickly, “Things to do, you know. Jonah can stay or go as he pleases, or as you please, I suppose—Tell him to get out if he makes you uncomfortable. The doctors want you to stay for a couple days—to make sure that you aren’t going to get any sicker, but they are under orders to not give you any medicines without explaining themselves first and only after you’ve given them permission. We don’t want you to think we are lying or drugging you.” Annabelle looked back and forth between Jonah and Petra awkwardly for a while before adding, “Right.” And walking out of the room.
Petra watched Jonah stand in the corner a bit longer—not really looking at her, but not pointedly not looking at her either. “This is hard for you, isn’t it?” she asked him.
He nodded for a few seconds before answering. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s real hard on all of us. But, we’ll figure it out.” Apparently she’d hurt his feelings too. Oh well. “I’m going to go too. If you need us, the nurses know how to call us.”
Petra watched him leave the room, and tried to decide whether or not she should feel sad to watch him go.