"Sis, let's go."
Liz looks at me, and smiles with a soft hint of curiosity in her eyes.
"Emmie didn't come today?"
I shake my head, as I push the wheelchair against the bed.
"No, Emmie has a club activity today. I can take care of you myself, so I asked her to focus on her training."
I walk to take her things out of the wardrobe and bring out the clothes I have already prepared before. Well, I don't walk, I limp, because my wound has not managed to heal in just a week. Though, I can't be bothered to be disappointed. My head has been rarely free from the gloom I have been carrying since the incident. And that wound is a constant reminder. Liz's wounds too. And her weak state…
"Max, you are getting lost in your thoughts again."
Liz's gentle voice pulls me out of my thoughts, and when I arrive beside her, she strokes the space between my brows. When I look up, she smiles at me.
"I can't know everything that is bothering you, but I think I know a little. However, don't think too much, okay? You are young, and you have many years before you to solve any trouble that does not strike you down immediately. Take your time, alright? And I am also young, so we will have a long time together to think things through."
I blink, the clouds in my mind lightening up, going from a deep, laden dark, to a lighter leaden grey.
"Also, I have something to tell you. I heard that the police came two days ago to arrest a patient's husband at the hospital. He was being charged for murder attempt on his wife and soon-to-be born child. It seems he wanted to free himself from what he considered burdens. Fortunately, he was discovered, and the child will be born safe and sound next week. Even without a father, there will be a living and loving mother. It is not bad, right?"
The mention of the police makes me wrinkle my nose, but I lowered my eyelids to hide my eyes after processing Liz's words. For a moment, the world, quieter here than it is now outside, turns even quieter.
"Alright, let's get going with getting ready to leave here. Help me with my clothes, please."
Liz carefully moves to take her feet out of the blanket while suppressing a slight wince of pain. That snaps me out of my thoughts, and I help her sit before putting the knee of my wounded leg down to make her put her feet through the waist of her long skirt in my hands.
She stands up, and with my help, adjusts the skirt at the waist. She was already wearing undies beneath her gown, and there is no need for briefs to complicate things. I pull the curtain around the bed close, then help her take off the gown, and put on her bra.
She basically lets me adjust her breasts to make them fit in snugly, and looks at me hooking the bra with a smile, even though the clasp is in front. I smile helplessly under her smiling gaze that only speaks of enjoyment, and shakes my head.
"Why the headshake? You are the one who has always enjoyed their grace."
She tilts her head and teasingly pokes my cheek. I roll my eyes, and move my head to avoid an artificial dimple before grumbling:
"And despite that, you went and looked for a boyfriend. And not even a good one."
This time, it is Liz's turn to smile helplessly under my glare.
"I won't look for a boyfriend anymore, okay? You will just have to keep helping me empty the milk fields you have cultivated."
I let out another eye-roll. My eyes fleetingly fall on the white bandage on Liz's stomach, then I push her arms up and make her wear a loose white blouse, before going around her to adjust the wheelchair for her to sit into.
Putting everything else away, I throw a jacket and the medical files onto Liz's lap, and push her out. Since it is an already agreed-upon matter, the discharge doesn't take much time, and it encounters no problem. Under the smiles and the blessings of Liz's colleagues, we step out of the hospital, and squint at the sunlight somewhat softened by the winterish haze.
I close my eyes and look up to bathe in the slight warmth. When I look down, I find Liz looking up at me with a smile that seems relieved, most probably because my head has not returned into the gutter. I roll my eyes for the third time in less than half an hour, but with an involuntary smile on my lips.
The way Liz seems to take everything without any resentment toward the world, the way her smile remains gentle, and not devoid of love for the world, cleanses my heart, bringing a feeling that embarrasses me slightly. And I hide my blush by pushing Liz over to the slope at the side to descend and get to the car I have hailed in advance.
The journey home does not take long. It passes quietly, with Liz looking outside with a light smile on her lips. That makes me raise the corner of my lips in a mirthless smile, because I suddenly feel envious. I don't doubt the grief Liz has felt when our parents died, followed not long after by our grandparents, and I don't doubt the pain she has just been through, and that is precisely what makes me envy her, and wish I could have been like that half a year ago, and I could be like that now too.
But a memory comes back to me, and I see the red torrent fall on me again like a cursed shower, try to drown me again, and pull me into a bottomless as it spread over the white of my dress. Then I see Liz's face filled with pain again, with blood dripping from her mouth. I see the gun pointed at her again, the bloody bullet wounds, and her hopeful eyes. And more than all of that, I see 'Mike' again, his face, his cold eyes, his indifference, and I recall our trampled home.
Suddenly, a hand comes to warmly cradle mine, and I look down, realizing just then that I have gritted my teeth at some point, and have been pressing on the wound on my leg, as if to carve everything in my mind, in my very being.
I turn around, and find Liz looking at me with a soft smile in her eyes.
"We have arrived, Max."