Chapter 3 Can You Hear My Heartbeat?

Liam's Pov

My eyes felt like they had been glued shut.

I tried to open them, but everything looked blurry and too bright. My head ached with a slow, steady throb. 

For a moment, I had no idea where I was. The roof, the rain, and the sting on my cheek from Mrs. Anthony's slap all felt like something from a dream I couldn't quite reach.

Then it all came rushing back: the fall.

I blinked rapidly until the world finally snapped into focus. I wasn't on the ground. I was lying in a hospital bed, surrounded by the smell of antiseptic and the steady beep-beep-beep of a heart monitor.

I sat up slowly, waiting for the pain to hit me. I had fallen six stories. I should have been in pieces. I gingerly touched my ribs, then my legs, then rolled my shoulders carefully.

There was nothing. No pain, no broken bones. Aside from a slight stiffness across my back, I felt completely fine, better than fine actually. I felt like I had just taken a very long nap, which made absolutely no sense given what I remembered happening right before I blacked out.

I had been hanging in the air, held by something cold and invisible. And then the girl had appeared out of nowhere, crashing into me just before blue lightning split the sky in half.

"Mr. Miller, you're awake."

I jumped slightly as a doctor in a white coat walked into the ward, flipping through a clipboard without looking up.

"Doctor," I rasped, my throat dry. "How long was I out? How many bones did I break?"

The doctor stopped at the foot of my bed and adjusted his glasses. "That's the thing, Liam. We've run every scan twice. Aside from a few scratches and a mild shock, you are perfectly healthy. To be honest, we've never seen anything like it in this hospital. You fell from the roof and landed on an SUV, yet you walked away with nothing but a ruined uniform."

I stared at him, completely speechless. A miracle didn't seem like the right word for it. Miracles didn't involve hanging in the air like a glitch in a video game.

"And the girl?" I asked quickly. "The one who fell with me?"

The doctor gestured to the bed right next to mine, separated by a thin, half-drawn curtain. "She's right there. She's been stable, but she hasn't regained consciousness unt—"

A soft gasp cut him off.

I leaned over and pushed the curtain aside.

The girl was sitting up in bed. She looked just like she did on the roof, long dark hair and pale skin, but something about her felt different now. She was staring at her own hands  like she was seeing it for the first time.

"Hey," I said softly. "Are you okay?"

Her head snapped toward me. She didn't look hurt. She looked terrified. She stared at me for a long beat, then leaned forward slowly, her eyes narrowing like she was trying to read something written on my face.

"Are you talking to me?" she asked. Her voice was soft and uncertain, like someone trying out a new language.

"Well, there's no one else here," I said with a weak smile. "I'm glad you're awake. That was a crazy fall."

Her eyes went wide. Her jaw dropped slightly. "You can see me? You can actually see me right now?"

I chuckled, though I was starting to feel uneasy. "Of course I can see you. You're sitting right in front of me. Why wouldn't I?"

She didn't answer. She looked at the doctor, then back at me, her expression shifting from shock to something that looked like complete and total confusion.

I reached out my hand, thinking maybe she had a fever. "Here, let me check if you're—"

She lunged.

Before I could react, she grabbed my hand and shoved my finger straight into her mouth, biting down hard.

"OW! HEY!" I screamed, the sharp pain shooting up my arm. I yanked back, but she held on. "Let go! Doctor, help!"

"AAAH!" She released my hand and clutched her own jaw, tears springing to her eyes. "Why does it hurt? Why does everything hurt so much?"

I nursed my throbbing finger. "It hurts because you bit me! Why did you do that?"

"I wanted to see if I was solid!" she snapped back, her lower lip trembling.

I opened my mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. "That is the strangest thing anyone has ever said to me."

She swung her legs over the side of the bed and tried to stand. The moment her feet touched the floor, her knees buckled. She grabbed the bedframe, her legs shaking like she had never used them before. She shoved my hand away when I moved to help her, then slowly and stubbornly pulled herself back onto the mattress.

Then her expression changed completely. Her eyes swept across the bed, the pillow, and the floor beneath her.

"Where is it?" she hissed, her voice rising fast. "Where is my book? My black book!"

"A book?" I backed up slightly, keeping my fingers well out of her reach. "I didn't see a book. If it's a textbook, I can help you get another—"

"Get another one?" She looked at me like I had suggested something deeply offensive. "You can't just get another one. It's the record. It's the—" She stopped herself, jaw tight, eyes darting around the room.

A few minutes later, after the doctor cleared us both to leave, mostly because he couldn't explain why either of us was completely fine, we stood on the sidewalk outside the hospital.

The sun was bright and the world looked completely normal, but nothing felt normal at all.

"Okay," I said. "Let's start over. What's your name? Where do you live? I can call someone for you."

She repeated the word slowly, like it was foreign to her. "Name." Then she shook her head. "I don't have one. And I don't have parents."

I rubbed the back of my neck. "Everyone has a name. Just try to remember. Where did you come from before you ended up on that roof?"

She raised one finger and pointed straight up at the sky.

I looked up, then back at her. "Right. So you're a bird. Or maybe a very lost pilot."

"I'm telling the truth!" she said, her voice sharp with frustration.

"Maybe you hit your head harder than the doctor thought," I muttered.

"I did not hit my head!" she snapped.

Then she froze completely.

The anger drained from her face all at once. Her eyes went wide and she pressed her palm flat against the center of her chest. She stood perfectly still, like she was listening to something very far away.

"It's beating," she whispered.

"What is?"

"The thing in here." Her voice dropped even lower, like she was afraid to speak too loudly and make it stop. "It's thumping. Over and over. It won't stop."

"That's your heartbeat," I said slowly. "You've never felt your own heartbeat before?"

She didn't answer me. Instead, she reached out and pressed her palm firmly against my chest, right over my heart. I went completely still. Her hand was ice cold.

Her eyes widened. "Yours is loud," she breathed. "It's so much louder than mine."

I looked down at her hand, then back up at her face. She wasn't joking and she wasn't confused. She was genuinely, completely amazed by the fact that our hearts were beating.

Her face crumpled slowly, and then she began to cry. I stood there with absolutely no idea what to do about that.