CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Mark Conely

MARK OPENED HIS EYES, but he didn't feel anything at all, he didn't hear a single sound, he didn't feel his legs and arms were numb and even the light he saw was too blinding for him to keep his eyes open for very long.

Where am I?

Did I die?

But the pain he felt showed him that he was still alive.

A shadow stood in front of him and gradually formed an extraordinarily beautiful and smiling female figure.

Mark, at first, looked in her direction and saw only her lips move without a sound, it took almost ten minutes for him to slowly start to hear something from those soft lips like Angelina Jolie's.

— Where… where am I?

She looked relieved to hear him say that.

— Usted is at St.ª Monica Hospital, in Mexico. Do you speak Spanish, senor?

Mark shook his head no.

— Okay, then — she said — let's talk in English, no problem. You were unconscious for two months, you were in a coma, I almost thought you wouldn't come back, but at the moment you may still be a little dazed, this is normal after a long period away from everything, your mind is still associating what is happening.

Mark stared at the doctor trying to imagine her situation.

— I know you must be asking a thousand questions in that little head, first, I want you to answer some questions for me, then I'll answer yours. Could it be?

Mark nodded.

— What is your name?

— Mark... Mark Conely...

The doctor was startled when she heard that name, for exactly two months the whole world had been in an uproar looking for that unfortunate man and he was there in front of her all the time.

— Are you married? Have family?

He had... Anthony and Josie...

One wanted to kill him, and the other disappeared, killing him in the same way.

— So, Mr. Conel?

— I have no family, my parents died in an accident a few years ago and my wife abandoned me.

— I think I heard something like that, but let's go on...

— Can I ask you a question first? — He said humbly.

— Of course, Mr. With...

— Mark — he interrupted — please.

— Sorry… Mark.

— What's your name, doctor?

— Marina Herrera.

— It's a very nice name.

— Thanks...

Mark kept looking at the ceiling.

— Do you know what happened to you, Mark?

— No...

He knew exactly what had happened.

Anthony Melthow happened...

Marina was silent.

— Will I be able to play again?

— Most likely, with the exception of your spine, all the bones in your body that have broken and not a few have already regenerated, now it's a matter of a lot of physiotherapy to get you back to normal movements, including, with great luck, walking.

— It's very serious?

— There have been previous cases in which people were able to walk again with crutches initially and then walk normally with the use of a cane, everything will depend on your effort in physiotherapy, I believe there is a chance, yes, this area is very indecisive regarding cases like yours.

— I just want to play again, Marina, that's all...

Marina wondered what it was about music that made him so hooked.

— Why do you want to play so much again? He already has everything a man could dream of in life, fame, money, all the women he wants...

Mark smiled.

Not all...

— Music goes beyond the pleasures that money and women provide us, asking me to stop playing is the same thing as asking me to stop living, or worse, stop loving.

— I know how you feel, Mark, I feel the same way about medicine.

— Then go do what you love most in this life so I can do what I love most.