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Her eyes opened slowly, staring up at a small, dark-eyed nurse who was taking her blood pressure.
There was a thermometer in her mouth, and she watched the nurse take it out and read it.
"Hi," the nurse said gently. "Feel up to a few questions now?"
"I think . . . so." Teddi's hand went to her face, 148
and she felt a thick padding of bandages from her temple to her chin.
"It's all right," the nurse said quickly. "Nothing that won't heal."
Teddi swallowed. "What else?" she asked, turning to notice for the first time the bandages on her right
leg where the covers were disheveled.
"Dr. Forbes will tell you all about it," she was assured, "when he makes his rounds in about," the nurse
checked her watch, "thirty minutes. But for now, I'm going to send down someone from admissions
and let them get their information, if you're sure you're up to it?"
"Yes, I'm . . . I'm fine," she said without any conviction. Her face and leg were obviously damaged in
some way, and she could only guess at the rest of her injuries. She felt bruised all over.
"Just . . . one thing," she said before the nurse left. "I was on my way to an interview ... I never made it,
but could someone call the Amanda Roman Talent Agency and tell them where I am? I'm a model."
"Sure," the nurse assured her with a gentle smile. "I'll do it myself. What is your name, by the way?
Did you know, you weren't even carrying any identification on you?"
"Left my wallet at home again," Teddi groaned. "Weil, no harm done. I'm Teddi Whitehall."
"I'll make the call right now," the nurse said and she was gone.
Time dragged horribly until Dr. Forbes, a kind, white-haired gentlemen, walked in to tell her what
was wrong.
"Your leg was badly lacerated," he began quietly, seating himself on the edge of the bed. "We had to
do some cosmetic surgery as we repaired the damage. That's why your thigh may feel a bit
uncomfortable. That's where we took a patch of skin for the graft. Not to worry, it'll grow back
quickly enough. The same can be done for your face when the stitches come out, if you think you
want that. The scar will heal completely, in time, without it," he added, watching her face grow white.
"My ... my leg?" she whispered.
He drew in a slow breath. "My dear, there's just no simple way to put it. We can repair flesh and bone,
to a degree, and cosmetic surgery will put it nearly right again. But we can't make it as good as new,
you understand. Those ligaments are going to take a long time to heal. You may be left with a slight
limp. Of course, further surgery can be performed, if necessary."
"Of course," she murmured, barely hearing him.
"And you have a concussion," he added with a faint smile, "as you've probably suspected if your head
is throbbing as much as I expect."
"It is uncomfortable," she agreed, touching it.
"I'll have the nurse give you something for it." He patted her hand. "Don't worry about it today. Give
yourself time to adjust to the shock. I realize it must seem like the end of the world to a beautiful
woman such as yourself, and a model as well. But you know, in the long run, most changes are
beneficial, regardless of the disasters they might seem at first. The difficulty is not in situations, my
dear, but in our attitude toward them. Your scars will fade before you realize it. A few weeks from
now, you'll be moving around quite well."
She nodded, her mind whirling with shock. What was she going to do? The hospital bill would be
formidable, and it was clear that she'd be out of work for several weeks if not longer with these
disfiguring marks. How could she cope?
"Bear in mind what I said," he told her, rising. "We'll keep you here another day or so, and then you'll
have to be careful about getting around, not putting too much pressure on that leg. Once you're home,
you'll do very well, I'm sure."
"Yes," she agreed. "Thank you."
When he was gone, she huddled under the bedcovers, staring at the blank television set and the empty
bed in the semiprivate room. Teddi couldn't remember ever feeling so alone. She was hurt, deserted,
with no one to care about her. They'd asked if she wanted them to notify anyone besides Mandy. But
she'd said no. There was no one to tell. Dilly would only be irritated at the interruption. King didn't
care, and he'd forbidden her to call Jenna. She burst into tears, burying her face in her hands. She'd
always been strong, because she'd had to be. But for a moment, she gave in to grief. Everything
seemed so hopeless.
The next morning, things looked no brighter, but Teddi was beginning to think she might cope better
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