My heart pounds in my chest as the doctor's words hangs heavy in the air. Cosmetic surgery? A dead woman's face? It didn't make any sense to me.
"I don't understand," I stammer, my voice hoarse to even my own ears.
"Look," The doctor begins calmly, "Your injuries were extensive. There was no time to wait for consent."
My fingers tremble as I graze them against the bandages wrapped around my face.
"Whose face is it?" I asks, my voice a whisper.
The elderly woman, probably in her sixties, standing beside the doctor steps forward. Her voluminous gray hair is neatly combed, and her hands and neck are adorned with expensive jewelry.
"Her name is Jane." She says softly, her voice quivers though she tries to hold her emotion. "She was my daughter."
My breath catches in my throat. The weight of the revelation is too much on me.
"I know this is a lot to take in, but Jane's body was brought here after an accident. The burns you sustained meant we had no other choice. Jane's tissue was a match, and her mother consented to the procedure." The doctor continues.
"My daughter is gone, but I'm glad her face can give someone else a second chance." The elderly woman says, her voice solemn.
"What happened to me?" I ask carefully.
"You were at a car accident scene where you survived a fire outbreak. You've been unconscious for weeks, and it seems you must be suffering from amnesia." The doctor explains.
I draws a deep shaky breath, "I don't remember who I am."
"Don't worry about that. You will recover your memories, but at this moment, you need to rest." The doctor advises.
I sigh softly as I return to the bed. I had been standing at the mirror before the doctor and Jane's mother stepped in. I lie down, slowly resting my head on the soft pillow.
"Go back to sleep." The doctor says. I nod slowly, then close my eyes to sleep.
I stare down at my handcuffs tightly gripping my hands together. I have been accused of a crime that I, Nelly Berry, have no idea about. They said that I murdered my husband's father. I wasn't even given a chance to speak up for myself and the police were called to arrest me. My husband, Jeremy Warren, looked at me with disgust as the police took me out of our home.
"We are getting divorced immediately. My lawyers will bring the divorce papers to jail for you to sign." Jeremy said, a warning in his voice.
I screamed for Jeremy to believe me, but he was quiet. I feel my heart ache when I see Kyra lay an empathetic hand on his shoulder, however, a devious smirk is directed at me. Tears well intensely in my eyes. My life is over. A flash of headlight from an incoming car shines on my eyes. I wince in pain, looking away from the bright light.
"Watch out!" An officer seated in the passenger's seat screamed in fear. I am jerked violently to the front as an incoming car slams against the police car I am. My head bounces painfully on the back of the driver's seat. I moan in pain, blood slips from hairline, down to my eyes. My visions blur red. I look to my sides and see the police beside me are unconscious. A suffocating stench infiltrates my nostrils causing me to cough. I look to the twisted metallic bonnet of the car I'm in and see black smoke emitting from it.
My vision begins blur, unconsciousness sets in, but suddenly the smoke is replaced by fire. I gasp, horrified as the flame burns faster, growing.
"No," I say weakly. The heat from the fire makes my body feel uncomfortably warm. I push myself over the police officer by my left. I extends my hands to the door and open it, pushing it wide open. I let myself cry as I crawl over the unconscious officer, landing on the ground with a loud and painful thud.
I struggle, pushing myself away from the fire that has now consumed the car and officers in it. I breathe shakily and force myself up on my feet. However, the pain on my knee restrict my movement. I limp as fast as I can, away from the overwhelming heat. I can't die like this. I have to live.
An explosion occurs, the fire spreading wildly and the blast sends me to the ground. I hit her head against the floor. My breathing gets slower and black spots appear on my vision before I black out.
I slowly blink my eyes awake and see the setting orange sun over the horizon through the window blinds. Constant beeping sounds from the heart monitors echoes in the white walled hospital room. I whimper when I feel a pain shoot in my head. I remove the white sheet from my legs and slip out of bed. My vision blurs for a moment and I sit back on the bed.
I breathe steadily and soon my vision clears. I stand up, walk towards the mirror hung on the wall. But I feel something pull me back at my hand.
I look down at my side and see an IV drip connected to my hand. I trace it to the IV pole, which I grab. I steadily pull the IV pole along with me as I walk toward the mirror. I breathe shakily, grazing my finger on the bandage. I wonder how my face looks beneath these bandages.
I remember everything. My name, Nelly Berry. My husband, Jeremy. The accusation. The accident. I look up at the television hung on the wall, where a news reporter talks about headlines for the evening.
"Jeremy Warren and Kyra Stone have officially announced their wedding to take place in the next two days." The reporter announces.
I breath shakily as the news hangs heavy in the air. I can't believe Jeremy is getting married to my best friend. First, I was falsely accused of murdering my father in law, and now, my husband and best friend betray me by doing this.
I inhale sharply through my clenched teeth. They are going to pay for doing this to me.
