One hundred and thirty-two

When I regained consciousness, I was feeling only a little bit better. My head appeared to be stuffed with wool, and the nagging pain in my side remained, though it felt different now, less sharp and more like an ache. 

For a second, I thought that I fell asleep feeling sick and dreamed the whole thing, but the smell convinced me otherwise. It was that unmistakable antiseptic odor that you only encounter in doctor's offices and hospitals. That odor meant I was alive . . . and off the island.

My heart started racing at the thought of how I almost lost my life and how frightening it was.

"She's awake," an unfamiliar female voice said in accented English, apparently addressing someone else in the room.

I heard footsteps and felt someone sitting down on the side of my bed. Warm fingers reached out and stroked my cheek. "How are you feeling, baby?"