Chapter 6

LYRA.

I woke up hazily on the hospital bed, my body drenched in cold sweat and my palms clammy. I blinked rapidly, rubbing my eyes with my finger to clear my blurry vision. I looked around me to realize that I was still in the hospital, but not alone this time, as I turned my head to the side to find the same nurse who'd been there with me the first time I'd passed out after my mother had been declared dead, watching over me. 

“Oh, good thing you're awake. I'll get the doctor to come and have you checked on, okay?” she said, smiling at me and I nodded slowly, managing a weak smile.

She walked out of the ward and I felt sadness overwhelm me immediately as I thought of my parents. I was devastated, losing both parents the same day in less than two hours due to a scandal I knew nothing about. I bit my lower lip in pain as I cursed whoever had orchestrated this in bitterness, sobbing uncontrollably as tears rolled down my cheeks. I knew I wasn't always used to being around them being that they were always busy with work, but it was definitely going to be a whole different ball game henceforth living with the tag of an orphan. My mind drifted to school, and all I could think of was Cassian and the taunting mocking message he'd sent to the class’ group text as the news of my dad's death broke the internet. I sniffed loudly, fresh tears falling from my eyes in trickles as I imagined just how much worse I was going to get bullied in school by him and his cronies. There was no way I could bring myself to get back to school, not with the scandal still making the daily news headlines and the death of my parents topping the charts of discussions in almost every blog.

I turned sideways to the bedside table and picked my phone, scrolling through the texts in my class’ group chat and I shook my head sadly as I went through the mocking comments from more than half of the class. It didn't come as a shock to me, though, I was already used to their antagonistic comments on ordinary cases like me passing a test or an exam, so a tragic incident happening to me was definitely going to brew more hate and fuel their sadist comments. I dropped my phone back on the table and lay back on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling with tears still rolling down my eyes, and a few minutes later, I fell asleep, drifting into oblivion.

I woke up to find my Grandmother Evelyn seated beside me on the bed, bowing her head with her face buried in her palms in grief. She looked up at me, her teary eyes lit with delight as she found me awake.

“Oh, Lyra, my darling daughter,” she said, grabbing my hand and squeezing gently. “Are you alright? Do you feel any pain?”

I willed myself to speak, but the words couldn't come out. She furrowed her brows in confusion as she got up, cupping my face with her hands. 

“Lyra? Talk to me, what's wrong?” she said, looking at me tenderly. I said nothing, shaking my head and shrugging. Her eyes widened as she rushed out of the hospital ward to fetch the doctor, looking distraught. She came back a few minutes later, the doctor following closely behind her. He took off his stethoscope and plugged it into his ears, checking my heartbeat and nodding slowly. He took the stethoscope off, hung it back on his neck and looked at me, holding my hand gently in his.

“Lyra?” he called, his voice gentle and calm. “How are you feeling?”

I made to respond, but the words still wouldn't come out.

“Can you hear me, Lyra?” the doctor asked, leaning closer to me. “How are you feeling?”

I managed to nod slowly, signifying that I was fine. He took a quick glance at my grandmother then turned to look at me intently again, before proceeding.

“Do you feel any pain in any part of your body? Any weakness?” the doctor asked again and I shook my head, implying that I felt nothing. My grandmother stood at the foot of the bed, her hands clasped together and held at her jaw, watching us silently with tears in her eyes. I turned away from her and fixed my gaze on the doctor, willing myself not to break down in tears once more.

“Okay, Lyra. Now if you can hear me, I want you to blink twice. Go on,” the doctor continued and I obeyed, blinking twice and maintaining my gaze at him.

“Good, good,” the doctor said, nodding. “Now, can you tell me what number comes after three?”

I raised my hands from the bed, lifting four fingers into the air. The doctor nodded again and then turned away from me to look at my grandmother, heaving a heavy sigh.

“What's the problem, doctor? What has happened to my daughter?” my grandmother asked, fear written all over her face.

“Please, calm down, madam,” the doctor said calmly, placating her. “Lyra here is still in shock from the tragic incident that occurred, and it's thrown her into psychological trauma, which has resulted in her inability to speak. Medically, this situation is known as psychogenic mutism.”

I turned sharply to the doctor, staring at him in disbelief. I had developed psychogenic mutism?

“What's that supposed to mean, doctor? Could you please explain in layman terms?” my grandmother asked with a puzzled look on her face.

“Psychogenic mutism is a speech disorder, and it's a rare condition where a person suddenly stops speaking without any apparent physical reason. It is often linked to psychological trauma or stress, which is what your granddaughter here is going through,” the doctor explained.

“And?” my grandmother pressed on.

“What this means, ma'am, is that Lyra has just lost her ability to speak for the time being, due to the shock from the loss of her parents,” the doctor said, turning to me.

My grandmother's eyes followed him as she looked at me, walking towards me with gentle strides.

“You're going to be fine, Lyra,” she said, running her hand through my hair. “You're definitely going to be fine, I promise.”