Mirror Image

giving her credit for operating courageously during a disaster. All she had done was react to every living creature’s survival instinct.
    Perhaps the memories of the tragedy would unfold gradually. Perhaps they never would. She wasn’t certain she wanted to remember. Reliving those terrifying minutes following the crash would be like experiencing hell again.
    If only fourteen passengers had survived, then scores had died. That she had survived perplexed her. By a twist of fate, she had been selected to live, and she would never know why.
    Her vision grew blurry and she realized that she was crying again. Wordlessly, he applied the tissue to her exposed eye. “They tested your blood for gases and decided to put you on a respirator. You’ve got a concussion, but there was no serious head injury. You broke your right tibia when you jumped from the wing.
    “Your hands are bandaged and in splints because of burns. Thank God, though, that all your injuries, except for the smoke inhalation, were external.
    “I know you’re concerned about your face,” he said uneasily. “I won’t bullshit you, Carole. I know you don’t want me to.”
    She blinked. He paused, gazing down at her with uncertainty. “Your face sustained serious damage. I’ve retained the best plastic surgeon in the state. He specializes in reconstructive surgery on accident and trauma victims just like you.”
    Her eye was blinking furiously now, not with understanding, but with anxiety. Feminine vanity had asserted itself, even though she was lying flat on her back in a hospital ICU, lucky to be alive. She wanted to know just how badly her face had been damaged. Reconstructive surgery sounded ominous.
    “Your nose was broken. So was one cheekbone. The other cheekbone was pulverized. That’s why your eye is bandaged. There’s nothing there to support it.”
    She made a small sound of pure terror. “No, you didn’t lose your eye. That’s a blessing. Your upper jawbone was also broken. But this surgeon can repair it—all of it. Your hair will grow back. You’ll have dental implants that will look exactly like your front teeth.”
    She had no teeth and no hair.
    “We’ve brought him pictures of you—recent pictures, taken from every angle. He’ll be able to reconstruct your features perfectly. The burns on your face affected only the outer skin, so you won’t have to have grafts. When the skin peels, it will be like taking off ten years, the doctor said. You should appreciate that.”
    The subtle inflections in his speech slipped past her comprehension while she focused on key words. The message that had come through loud and clear was that beneath the bandages, she looked like a monster.
    Panic welled up inside her. It must have communicated itself to him because he laid his hand on her shoulder again. “Carole, I didn’t tell you the extent of your injuries to upset you. I know that you’re worried about it. I thought it best to be frank so you could mentally prepare yourself for the ordeal ahead of you.
    “It won’t be easy, but everybody in the family is behind you one hundred percent.” He paused and lowered his voice. “For the time being, I’m laying personal considerations aside and concentrating on putting you back together again. I’ll stick by you until you are completely satisfied with the surgeon’s results. I promise you that. I owe it to you for saving Mandy’s life.”
    She tried to shake her head in denial of everything he was saying, but it was no use. She couldn’t move. Making an effort to speak around the tube in her throat caused pain to her chemically scorched esophagus.
    Her frustration increased until a nurse came in and ordered him to leave. When he lifted his hand off her shoulder, she felt forsaken and alone.
    The nurse administered a dose of narcotic. It stole through her veins, but she fought its anesthetizing effects. It was stronger than she, however, and gave her no choice but to submit.
    * * *
    “Carole, can you hear me?”
    Roused, she moaned pitiably. The medication made her feel weighted down and lifeless, as though the only living cells in her entire body resided in her brain and the rest of her was dead.
    “Carole?” the voice hissed close to her bandaged ear.
    It wasn’t the man named Rutledge. She would have recognized his voice. She couldn’t remember if he had left her. She didn’t know who was speaking to her now. She wanted to shrink from this voice. It wasn’t soothing,