by HC Michaels
There was a knock at the door.
At first, she thought she’d imagined it, like seeing a mirage in a desert. The human mind could do strange things like that.
But the noise came again, and she heard the door open, followed by footsteps.
“Excuse me,” said a male voice. “Is there anyone here?”
She went to call out, but her voice caught in her throat.
Her tears fell as she realised her ordeal was over.
The hotel manager came into view through the swollen slits of her eyes. He froze as his face filled with horror, confirming that she looked even worse than she felt.
Elvira was standing behind him.
“Tessa!” she screamed. “Oh my god, Tessa. Quick, help me untie her.”
The manager launched into action and, together, he and Elvira removed her blindfold and fumbled with the cords that bound her to the bed.
Elvira covered her nakedness with a sheet while shouting for the manager to call an ambulance.
It was hard for Tessa to be certain of what happened next. Her memories were a blur of people coming in and out of the room, talking to her, touching her, asking her questions that her voice refused to answer. The one thing she was certain of was that Elvira never left her side. She held her hand, crying and shaking her head as if she wanted to wake from a nightmare.
At some point, someone injected something into her arm, which sent waves of relief sweeping through her aching body.
She collapsed into Elvira’s arms, giving into sleep, feeling safe knowing it was no longer up to her to wake herself up. These people were helping her. She was going to be okay.
Her body would heal, even if her mind would never recover.
The Day Before The Break
Elvira hadn’t expected to ever return to this hospital, especially not via helicopter with Tessa on a stretcher.
Her injuries were horrific. She didn’t even look like Tessa. If it weren’t for the familiar scattering of freckles across her cheeks, still visible under the swelling and bruising of her face, she’d question whether it was Tessa at all.
She couldn’t help but feel responsible. If she hadn’t fired Tessa, this would never have happened.
The doctors had placed Tessa in an induced coma where she’d remained for the past two days.
This was much to the disappointment of the police who were hoping she could lead them to the person who did this to her.
With Tino safely tucked away in prison, they were running in circles trying to figure it out. Apparently Tino’s DNA had been found in some blood on a knife left on the nightstand in Tessa’s hotel room.
Somehow, Tino had been in that hotel room with Tessa at the same time he was being held in custody. No wonder the police were keen for Tessa to wake up and provide them with some information. Preferably, some that made sense. Everything else was so confusing.
Paul had been devastated by the news. They hadn’t told Amelia, nor would they. She didn’t need to know how scary the world could be. Let her keep her innocence as long as possible.
She was just thankful she’d listened to her instincts and tracked Tessa down. The need to find her and talk to her had been overpowering. She now believed there was a force greater than her, leading her to Tessa’s side. If she hadn’t found her when she did, it was doubtful she’d have survived.
When they’d collected Amelia from her father the day she was released from hospital and returned to their apartment, she’d pretended to sleep while Paul surreptitiously removed all the pills from the bathroom, flushing them down the toilet. He’d joined her in the bed and fallen asleep almost instantly. The poor man was exhausted.
She’d gone straight to her phone and called the island’s biggest hotel asking to be put through to Tessa. As soon as her call was connected, she hung up, knowing she’d found her. It was as easy as that. She’d wanted to speak to her in person, so wrote Paul a note in case he woke and headed for the hotel.
She explained to the receptionist that she was worried about Tessa and asked if it would be okay to be allowed up to her room. She knew a reputable hotel would never allow such a breach of privacy but was hoping the receptionist would at least take pity on her and call Tessa to ask her to come down and talk with her.
Instead, the manager who’d been eavesdropping a few metres away, shuffled over to her and asked why she was concerned. He seemed reluctant to give away too much, but it seemed he’d had some reports of some strange noises coming from Tessa’s room. He agreed to let her come up with him to check on Tessa’s welfare.
And thank goodness they did.
Poor Tessa. She must have been terrified. That girl had never done anything bad to anyone. It was unthinkable what had happened to her. She didn’t deserve this. Nobody did.
Elvira leant forward and rested her head on Tessa’s arm.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “When you wake up, you can come and live with us. Anything you like. Just wake up. Please. I’m so sorry.”
Was this how Paul had felt when she was in this same situation only days before? That thought left a heavy stone of guilt in the pit of her stomach. She knew she could never do that to him again. He could leave a whole pharmacist’s cabinet in her bathroom and she wouldn’t touch so much as a single pill.
Life was worth fighting for. If Tessa could put in such an effort after what she’d been put through, then so could she.
“Come on Tessa,” she begged. “Let’s do this. We’ll fight together. I’m here for you.”
“Tessa!”
Elvira turned to see a woman in her fifties come running into the room, closely followed by a man with silver hair and a guy about Tessa’s age.
Tessa’s parents and brother. It had to be. The woman was an older version of Tessa, the resemblance uncanny. Her brow even furrowed in the same crooked way as Tessa’s when she was upset.
“My baby, my baby.” Tessa’s mother’s hands hovered above her daughter, her need to touch her fighting with her fear of harming her.
“You can hold her hand,” said Elvira. “That won’t hurt her.”
Although Tessa’s wrists had been bandaged, her hands seemed to have survived the trauma, one of the only parts of her beaten body to be in a good state.
Tessa’s brother and father stood stoically by the bed, their grief clear to all. A single tear trailed its way down her father’s cheek, quickly chased by more tears until his face was dripping with his grief.
How must a father feel to see his daughter like this? To know he hadn’t been there to protect her. He probably felt much like Elvira when she lost Bianca.
Useless. Angry. Devastated. Like a complete and utter failure.
She wished she could tell him it wasn’t his fault. Parents couldn’t be there for every breath their child took—or failed to take. It was impossible to watch over your child’s every moment. Sometimes things just went wrong with the worst imaginable consequences, and it wasn’t your fault.
A weight lifted from Elvira’s shoulders. It was so dramatic she felt for a moment that her feet had risen from the ground.
It wasn’t her fault Bianca had died, no more than it was Tessa’s father’s fault this had happened to his daughter.
Parents do their best by their children, but sometimes their best just isn’t enough.
She went to Tessa’s father and wrapped her arms around him.
Without knowing who she was or what she’d been through, he returned her embrace and together they sobbed, each mourning what had happened to their child when they weren’t there to stop it.
What. The. Fuck.
Tino paced his cell trying to make sense of what his lawyer had just told him.
Tessa had been attacked. Worse than that. She’d been bashed, raped, and left for dead in a hotel room.
He didn’t know who he felt sorrier for. Tessa or himself.
He’d beat the crap out of whoever did this to her…if he weren’t stuck inside this dog box.
His lawyer had t
ried to tell him this was good news. It proved there was someone else on the island up to no good and thereby placing serious doubt over whether he killed Lena Markovic.
A jury would be reluctant to convict him, knowing another crime had been committed after he’d been taken into custody. Not that the details would be allowed to be presented in court, but there wasn’t a person in Australia who wouldn’t hear about it. It was all over the news.
Tessa was famous.
He, on the other hand, was infamous.
But how could he be happy to hear about what happened to Tessa? He might not have wanted to settle down and watch her have his babies, but he still dug the chick. He didn’t want anything bad to happen to her. It wasn’t even certain she was going to survive.
He’d told his lawyer he was innocent of Lena’s murder, but it was obvious he didn’t believe him.
And, of course, Tino’s DNA was in Tessa’s hotel room. Were the police idiots? He’d slept with her the night before she was attacked. DNA didn’t exactly vanish with a good night’s sleep. Unless she’d changed rooms?
But Lena Markovic. Now that was a true puzzle. He’d never met the girl. Well, he didn’t think he had. She certainly didn’t look familiar. She was a bit young, even for his standards. He liked a woman who’d finished going through puberty, not one who thought colouring your hair with purple streaks looked cool.
So how had his DNA ended up on her? It must’ve been planted. But how?
He couldn’t work out shit while he was in here. He needed someone to help him. Someone on the outside who could hit the internet and do some research. Not Elvira. She wouldn’t help him. Or his dad. He probably thought google was a dish you ordered at a Chinese restaurant.
Paul. It had to be Paul.
He was a smart guy. And despite having every reason to hate him, somehow, he didn’t seem to. They’d gotten along well in the old days, going to the pub together for a beer occasionally and keeping each other sane at family functions.
He could figure this out. Maybe hire a private detective or something and find out how the hell he’d landed in such a mess—and who’d put him here.
He couldn’t stay caged up like this much longer. It’d be bad enough to suffer a punishment like this if you knew you were guilty. How the hell was he supposed to survive knowing he hadn’t done a fucking thing?
Voices. So many voices. Quiet! Be quiet!
Someone was touching her hand. Was it him?
Stop touching me! Stop it! Leave me alone!
More voices.
Her mother? That couldn’t be. How did she get here?
“Tessa, Tessss-ssa. Open your eyes, darling.”
It was her mother.
She tried to pull her hand away, but her mother held tight. She didn’t want to be touched. Not by her mother, not by anyone.
Leave me alone! Leave me alone! Leave me alone!
“Tessa, sweetheart. We’re all here. You’re safe now. Wake up, darling.”
Her eyes opened and light poured in.
She closed them again, not wanting to see. Not wanting to know.
“Hi Tess, it’s me. Dad. Wake up for us now.”
She felt another hand on her arm. Why was everyone touching her? Why couldn’t they leave her alone?
She tried her eyes again, wincing as light poured in like a tsunami despite only being able to lift her eyelids a crack.
It was the strangest feeling. Everything hurt, yet nothing hurt. She was here, yet not here. She was alive, yet not living.
She opened her mouth to speak and remembered what happened the last time she used her voice. It was safer to stay silent. Nobody hurt her when she was silent.
Her mother’s face appeared in front of her, hovering like it’d somehow detached from her body.
“Can you see me, Tess?”
Tessa moved her head up and down in slow, painful movements.
“Roy! Darcy! She nodded! Did you see that? She nodded at me.” Her mother pulled back out of her line of vision. “I told you she was going to be okay.”
Tessa tried again to speak.
She wasn’t okay. Couldn’t her mother see that? She was never going to be okay again.
Her father moved in closer and kissed her forehead.
He locked eyes with her for one moment, long enough to tell her that he understood. He knew she wasn’t okay.
She closed her eyes, trying to make her mother’s voice disappear.
It didn’t work.
Darcy was beside her now, hurting her with his gentle touch.
Everyone wanted to put their hands on her and take a piece of her away. The problem was that she didn’t have anything left to give.
Elvira stepped off the ferry with Paul.
“We should go home,” he said.
Paul had waited for Elvira in the cafe at the hospital while she visited Tessa. He was very insistent that after what Tessa had been through, she wouldn’t want any male visitors.
“It’s not too far from here.” She slid her hand into his, enjoying his warm touch.
“Not the apartment,” he said. “That’s not home. I mean Melbourne home.”
“Oh. But what about Tessa?” She wasn’t sure she was ready to leave just yet. She’d just assumed they’d stay until things had settled down.
“She has her parents here now.” He squeezed her hand. “She doesn’t need us. It’s a strain for you visiting her every day.”
“I don’t visit for me. I do it for her,” she pointed out. “What about the police, though? Don’t they need us to stay?”
He let out an irritated sigh. “We’ve told them everything we know.”
“What about my father?” she asked.
“Elvira! What about us?” He let go of her hand. “When do we get to do what we want to do instead of worrying about everyone else? Your dad will be fine. And Tino—”
“Tino? Are you serious? Please don’t talk about him right now.” Everything always came back to Tino. She was sick of it.
“Except, we have to talk about him.” He shook his head.
“And why’s that?” She stopped still on the marina and waited for him to answer.
He winced. “Because he’s asked me to visit him. He wants to talk to me about something.”
She drew in a breath, reminding herself not to shout. “You don’t owe him anything, Paul.”
“I know. I really would prefer not to see him. Not after what he did.” Paul pulled on her hand, urging her towards her father’s apartment.
“Then don’t see him.” She shrugged. “He got himself into this mess.”
They walked in silence the rest of the way. Amelia had become quite bonded to her father over this past week. Whenever they went to pick her up, they’d find the two of them deep in conversation as if planning how to take over the world. It was the one good thing to come out of this mess. Amelia had even started speaking a bit of Italian.
Although, when they entered the apartment this time, they didn’t find them deep in conversation. Amelia was asleep on the sofa, while Elvira’s father was pacing the kitchen like he’d become lost in a maze.
“What’s wrong, Dad?” Elvira asked.
“Chimera,” he said.
Elvira raised her eyebrows at Paul. He looked just as confused as he did.
“What do you mean, chimera?” she asked.
“Chi-mer-a.” Her father looked crazed, his normally well-groomed hair standing on ends in a mess.
“Saying it more slowly doesn’t mean it makes any more sense.” She perched on one of the stools and waited for him to explain. “Isn’t a chimera some kind of monster?”
Paul went to the coffee machine and switched it on. Probably a good idea. It looked like they were going to be here for a while.
“The killer is chimera.” Her father threw out his hands at this announcement.
“Dad, would you stop saying that word!” She shook her head. “What are you talking about?”
“I’v
e been on googles today on Amelia’s iPad.” He pointed to the screen clutched to Amelia’s chest.
“Google,” Paul corrected.
“Shh,” Elvira hushed. Now wasn’t the time to be pedantic.
“When Tino was sick, he had transplant. Remember?” Her father’s eyes were shining. “The cord blood. You must remember.”
“Of course, I remember.” How could she forget? The whole episode of Tino being sick was etched in her brain forever.
It all started when he was fourteen and had a cut on his knee that refused to heal. Insisting this wasn’t normal, their mother had taken him to the doctor, expecting him to be given antibiotics. Instead, he’d been given a diagnosis of multiple myeloma, a cancer of his plasma cells.
When it became obvious he needed a bone marrow transplant, Elvira had been tested. As Tino’s only sibling she was his best hope. But she’d failed him then, just as he’d failed her later in life. They weren’t a match.
She’d seen the disappointment in her father’s eyes. It was a disappointment that didn’t seem to have ever left him.
The doctors remained positive though, and turned their attention to stem cells taken from donated umbilical cords. They found an almost perfect match on the registry and performed the transplant, which turned out to be a huge success. Tino went from a skinny, bald kid in a bed to a conceited Casanova in a matter of months.
The girls flocked to him, dating him like they were going to receive a badge of honour and he lapped up the attention. He still did.
Tino’s illness changed him in every possible way. It changed all of them. It made sense, she supposed. To stare death in the face like that at such a young age was huge. But he’d won. He always won.
“Elvira! You listening?” Her father waved a hand in front of her face.
“Yes, Dad.” She blinked as she focused on him. “But what does Tino’s transplant have to do with this?”
Paul left the coffee machine and went to his phone.
Her father put his hands on her shoulders. “Tino is chimera. His bloods have his donor’s DNA.”
“Paul, can you please google chimera before I go crazy over here?” she asked, trying to squirm away.