The Missing Link by Erica Pensini - HTML preview

Chapter 20

The doctor has a strange look on her face as she is about to let me go, as if she wanted to ask something or knew something she hasn’t told me yet.

I am clueless about what any of this means or what I will do next. All of a sudden I feel overwhelmingly lonely, and I realize I haven’t spoken to Joshua for way too long. What is it, one, two days? He must be wondering what is happening to me.

“Is there WI-FI here?”, I ask anxiously

“Yes, in the waiting rooms and in the lobby”, she tells me, observing my hands as I run my fingers along the sides of my smartphone

“Will I have to pay when I sign out?”, I want to know, hoping the bill is reasonable

She shakes her head no.

“The nurse told me a relative of yours already paid”, she tells me

“A relative?”, I repeat, bugging my eyes

“Do you not have relatives here?”, she says, observing me closely

Instead of answering her question I want to know if my relative is still here, but he’s gone.

“You are scared”, she tells me, and I am surprised because I don’t feel this way, not now, although if I paused to analyze myself I would likely reckon I am.

“I’m fine”, I lie

“If you need help, please call me”, she says and scribbles her name and phone number on a piece of paper she hands me

I attempt to produce a smile.

“Thank you”, I say, already on my way to the door, pierced by her inquiring gaze.

I walk to the elevator, it takes forever to reach my floor but at last I am in the lobby with WIFI access. It’s an open network and who knows how safe it is to open my emails there, but this is what I have now. I read Joshua, he’s concise, almost curt, the tone is ostensibly chill but because this is Joshua’s writing I know its meaning beyond the words - staying calm is what he’s trying to do. I’ve just replied and pressed “send”, and I am still staring at my phone’s screen to make sure my message is going through when I sense someone’s presence on my back.

I freeze, and I feel someone slip something in my pocket, while I keep staring at my phone. When I turn around I see the guy who did it, and I can swear it’s the same one I’ve met on the plane. My mouth drops open for the briefest instant, but then I catch myself and smile to the receptionist who has probably followed the scene while pretending to leaf through some paperwork on her desk.

“Thank you”, I say with a positively controlled voice

She smiles back at me

“Enjoy your day”, I add, pushing the door with deliberate resolution, with the note burning in my pocket.