The Luminosity Series (Book 1): Luminosity Read Free

kneeled beside the bed, taking my hand. I wanted to face him, but
the neck brace was too heavy. Speaking was out of the question, my voice
inaudible behind the oxygen mask. Lifting my arm, I swept my weak fingers over
my aching face. Bruises pulsated along my jawline. The thick thread of stitches
trailed beside my eyebrow, leaving an everlasting scar that would surely serve
as distraction from my pale skin and dark, inky hair. My eyes grew larger,
releasing a cold slither of tears along my cheeks, stinging the injuries—a
sensation that reminded me I was still alive.
    “Hey.
Look at me. You’re going to be okay,” he convinced in a heave, this time with
the onrush of confidence as he searched for an escape from the fear lurking in
his eyes. But while his presence comforted me, a jolting pain sliced through my
core. Without warning, the pressure of air speeding through my lungs pressed
against my chest with a force I couldn’t withstand. The heart machine jumped,
the beeps raging endlessly as he glared at it in terror.
    “Aubrey?
What’s wrong?” But he didn’t wait to find out. “Someone help! Please! She needs
help!” Racing out into the hall, he pressed his hands against the sides of his
head in panic. His distressful screams continued, ringing down the busy hallway
before help arrived. Now, in a sudden refusal of acceptance, I pried my eyes
open as a nurse shouted out the doorway.
    “Get
a doctor. She’s going into shock!” the nurse warned a team in the hallway. This
only made him resist their orders to leave even more. “Aubrey, you need to try
and relax, okay? We’re here to help you,” she said, approaching me.
    “Hold
on, Aubs. Just hold on,” he panicked with wide eyes, eager to reach me. But
getting past the barrier of flustered nurses proved useless.
    “Sir,
it’s time to go!” A police guard pulled him back. He was armed, dressed in a thick,
black uniform and helmet, unlike the normal, on-duty officers we’d see around
town.
    “No!
You have to let me stay here! Please!”
    Without
forewarning, a team of doctors hastened down the hallway, their footsteps slapping
against the shiny hospital floor before rushing into my room. Now, urgent
voices and movement surrounded me. My bed rolled down the hall as the weight of
my heavy eyelids blinded me. But I could still see light behind them. Evan’s
shouts grew more desperate as he struggled to break free from the added
security guards pulling him back several feet behind me. Numbness overtook me,
drifting me into darkness again. After so much pain, I didn’t think I could
hold on. I wasn’t sure I wanted to. And the last image I saw was the glint of
fluorescent light before everything faded.
     
    ♦  ♦  ♦
     
    After
losing track of the incomprehensible days spent in recovery, I woke to a fuzzy
vision of dying orange roses—like the ones my mother grew near the garden. They
sat lifelessly on the table beside me, soaking in the golden light glaring in
from the window, the rays revealing a sea of dust particles in the air, then
disappearing again like fireflies. My bones still throbbed from the impact, but
at least my energy seemed better.
    When
I built up the strength, I adjusted the bed to an upright position. To my
relief, the shouts and screams outside had vanished, replaced with a hollow,
bitter calm.
    The
door squealed open, breaking the silence as Evan reappeared. I didn’t expect to
see him after that night. Nor had he expected to see me, I assumed. It took
several glances to accept this was real, his face frozen upon standing there,
never once blinking. Beaten by the elements, his tired posture reflected the
outside world—messy, weary, and broken. His hair looked dirty, unwashed in a
tangle of wavy strands, just like the night he brought me here. The image of it
triggered fragments of my memory—the auroras, the accident, the pain.
    He
swallowed as he strolled closer.
    “Hey.”
He cleared the grogginess from his throat. I