Masquerade (Masquerade #1) Read Online Free Page B

arms.
    “That’s your sister, Lucy. You don’t remember her or remember me being pregnant with her, I should say. You were in a coma during the time of delivery.”
    I look at her and discover that she looks like me a little. “No, I don’t, but she is pretty. She looks like me a little.”
    Snickering, my mom says, “Yeah she does.”
    “How old is she?”
    “She is nine months old,” she says with the cheesiest grin on her face.
    I watch her sleep and can’t believe I have a sister. It also feels so weird not to remember certain things.
    The nurse comes in with a pitcher of water and some plastic cups in her hand. She sits them down on the table and pours me a glass. She pops a straw in, bringing it to me. I take it from her and drink a big gulp. It feels so welcomed going down my throat.
    “I have put you an order in for some food. I know you’re hungry, and from the way you drank that water, you will be just fine,” she says with a genuine smile. “I will bring it in as soon as it gets here.”
    “Thank you.”
    She walks out, and I lean my head back, thinking about the things I just found out. I open my eyes to realize I fell asleep. You would think after being in a coma I wouldn’t be so tired, but I am.
    I look around to see my food has arrived, so my mother brings it to me. The rest of the day we talk about things that I do remember and smile at each other a lot.
     

 
    Chapter Four
    It has been a long journey, but one that has defined me into the person I am. I have to stay in the hospital for another two months, and I also have to do therapy to help build up my muscles in my legs again. My left leg was broken, and it healed, so the cast was removed during the time I was in the coma. I hate doing the therapy. It hurts so badly, but I push myself to get back to the way I used to be. No pain, no gain, right?
    I am finally released from the hospital and sent home with crutches to help me walk, although, I think I am doing pretty well by myself. I will have to continue with therapy twice a week until I am one hundred percent.
    The first night I am home is weird. I remember being a child, but half of my teenage years are gone. I have posters on my wall but have no idea who One Direction or Britney Spears are, or why I even liked them. My parents apparently hadn’t changed anything in my room.
    My mom fixed supper that night for us all to eat at the table like a family. My mom and dad talked a lot that night at dinner. They seemed really animated and happy. It is a nice sight. I look around and sometimes have déjà vu moments.
    Once we are done eating, I am worn out. I make my way back to my room to change and get ready for bed. Once I am settled in the bed, I hear a knock on my door.
    “Come in.”
    My mother comes in and sets down on my bed. “Hey, sweetie, you okay?”
    I nod my head.
    “Good. We have therapy in the morning, so I will take you.”
    “Okay. Thanks for being here.”
    She answers me with tears in her eyes. “I will never leave you. Although, as soon as you get well, maybe we can consider colleges again.”
    I look at her and wink. “You got it.”
    She kisses the top of my head. “Goodnight. I love you.”
    “Goodnight. I love you too.”
     

    After six months of strenuous therapy, I am walking on my own, and it feels liberating. Now that I am able to do things for myself again, my parents and I sat down and talked about colleges. I had apparently applied and had been accepted to a couple of them but wasn’t sure it still stood.
    I make a call to Armstrong Atlantic State University, which was apparently my first choice, to see if I needed to reapply or if the offer is still on the table. I talk to a nice woman who explains to me that I will indeed have to reapply, but if I had been accepted, I would be accepted again. The reason behind reapplying was mainly for dorm room assignments.
    I reapply, and sure enough, I get accepted for the fall term starting in August. I only have