78
ŞAPTE ZECI ŞI OPT
slept in my parents’ bed. Fever sucked me in and out of mangled dreams. I was fighting at the barricade, dodging bullets, lying in a poolI of green paint at Station 14, running through the corridors of Jilava, and reaching for Luca. He reached back with his remaining arm and gently touched my forehead.
My eyes fluttered. The room was dark. My father leaned over the bed,
touching my forehead.
“How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Tired.”
He nodded. “You’ve been sleeping for several hours.”
I closed my eyes, wanting to sleep for several more.
“Liliana’s here to see you. Do you feel up to it?”
“Yeah, of course.” I summoned some nonexistent energy and boosted myself up in bed.
A few moments after my father exited, the door opened, and the shadow of Liliana appeared. She moved toward me and sat on the edge of
the bed. She set her hand upon mine.
“Bună.”
“Bună.”
I wanted to see her face, sweep her hair from her eyes, and tell her she was safe. I reached beside me and turned on the lamp.
We stared at each other, mouths open.
“Cristian,” she gasped, looking at me. She gently touched the wreckage of my body and the ruin of my face.
I said nothing. I couldn’t. Liliana’s face was badly bruised and swollen.
Her necklace was gone and in its place was a slicing red rope burn circling her neck. “Are you all right?” I asked.
She reached up and slowly pulled the winter hat from her head. Her beautiful, mysterious brown hair—it was hacked off, uneven, and partially
shaved. Small scabs patched her scalp.
“Oh my god, Lili. Are you okay?”
She nodded. “I was lucky. But the brother and sister. They’re still there.” Her eyes welled.
“This will all be over soon,” I said, not knowing if it was true. We sat
in silence, hands clasped.
“You liked my bangs,” she whispered.
“I like your eyes,” I told her. “And now I can finally see them. Your hair, it kinda looks like mine now.”
She laughed and placed a hand on my chest. “You’re still wearing my
scarf.”
“It smells like you.”
Liliana smiled. She moved her hand to my face. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” I lied.
I was a mess.
It was all a mess.
“Luca,” I said.
“I heard.”
She held up a hand, clean, but shadowed in green paint. “Cristian, how could anyone understand this?” she whispered. A tear fell onto her cheek.
“Will they believe us?”
I shrugged, then shook my head.
They wouldn’t. They couldn’t. But we were there, together. We understood. And Liliana, she understood me. And she knew it. She leaned in to make the point and kissed me. I scooted over on the bed, making room. I wrapped my arms around her and we lay there, sharing the pillow.
An hour passed.
Her breathing slowed to sleep.
Gunfire sounded in the distance.
“I love you,” I whispered.