Our plane flew out of the Nassau airfield on late on Sunday afternoon. The Bodyglove shoot had been exhausting; we had visited a dozen or so locations, some at different times of day or night, to get the shots the photographer wanted. Time was money, I quickly learned. The small army of specialists in makeup, hair, lighting, and photography worked smoothly to go from setup to setup.
There was no changing room; three people held up towels, and I stripped off the old outfit, was handed the new one, and put it on in thirty seconds. I went from sand to surf to boat to underwater then back; after the sunset, it was streets, restaurants, and nightclubs for the casual wear. I didn't get back to the hotel until past one, and we started shooting at six Sunday morning. That day was shorter, as they saw how the shots had turned out the day before. The photographer was relentless, moving and posing me as he took shot after shot. I hoped they would give me copies of the best pictures, but they didn't. Phones weren't allowed, so Mom didn't even have her own photos.
Modeling isn't easy. I worked my tight ass off. We signed the contract when we arrived, and a hundred thousand dollars (before taxes) went into my account. I'd get more for each appearance, and twenty grand for each day of modeling. It was exciting because money was freedom. It meant I could study whatever I wanted, without having to worry about how the Pack would benefit from it.
The cargo hold held three large suitcases of new clothes; it was everything I had worn, and a lot that I hadn't. Now that they had my exact measurements, Mercedes promised me a few more boxes would get shipped straight to my house. When they said they wanted me to wear their clothing line, they weren't kidding. The contract had significant penalties in it for being photographed in clothing from other designers unless Bodyglove didn't make an equivalent. That meant I could still wear my North Face ski jacket, but I needed a Bodyglove shirt underneath.
I'd even talked them into sending a smaller collection for my Mom and Amy. It wouldn't do to be photographed with them and have them not wear the same brand, right? They wouldn't get paid, at least not yet. I hadn't given up on bringing Amy into the campaign when she was ready.
Mom was sitting across from me, with Colleen across the aisle sleeping. "Mom, why haven't you said anything about Amy except that she woke up," I said as the plane climbed to altitude. "Surely, you know more than that."
"I didn't want you distracted by something you could do nothing about," Mom replied. "Try and get some sleep before we get there."
"WHAT. IS. HAPPENING." I may have put a bit too much growl into it, causing my mom's wolf to flash a rebuke. I growled back even more; this was my best friend!
"Amy has been in and out of consciousness since yesterday. It is still too early to tell, and the doctors have a lot of testing left."
"MOM! What happened?"
I could see the sorrow in my mother's eyes; Amy was like another daughter to her. Tears started to fall as her carefully-maintained faΓ§ade crumbled like a sandcastle in the rising tide. Liv had to take a drink of water and compose herself first as the pit in my stomach spread. "The blow to the back of her head was in the area of the occipital lobe. The skull fracture was depressed, and the doctors had to remove the pressure on that area of the brain. It's not uncommon for it to take time before you know if the damage is temporary or permanent."
She was starting to scare me. All kinds of things went through my mind. "What happened, Mom?"
"That area of the brain is where visual images are processed, recognized, and sent on to other areas of the brain. Amy woke up, and she couldn't see," Mom said as she started to cry.
No. Not my best friend! "How bad," I asked.
"The doctors don't believe it is her eyes or her optic nerve. She can sense light and dark, but cannot focus and cannot make out objects or faces. She says it's all a blur."
Oh, my Luna. Amy, who never hurt anyone, had her sight taken from her in a cowardly attack.
I felt anger rise within me. Anger at Todd, who hit her and did this to her. Anger at the Killington Pack, whose Alpha had set it all in motion. Anger at Beta Max, who got off way too easy with his quick death. Anger at myself for not sensing them earlier or reacting faster.
And anger at the whole fucking Werewolf system that wanted my stupid Mantle so badly, they would do this to my best friend to get it.
"God, Mom," I said as I started to cry. "What do I do now?"
"You be there for your best friend and help her get through this," Mom said. "Brains are complicated; she could make a complete recovery in time, or she could have this the rest of her life. Either way, she's your best friend."
She was, she still IS. My mind was going a mile-a-minute trying to think of what this all meant. "What does Beta Susan say about the treatment?"
"She will be in the hospital for another week, at least. The doctors glued the bone back together and put in a protective metal plate. She's still on strong drugs to keep the swelling down, and she's not allowed out of bed."
"Is she all right otherwise?" So much could happen with a brain injury, enough that I stopped researching it because it drove me nuts after I got home.
"Susan said she has no paralysis; she can hold objects, drink, and her speech is not affected. Her thinking isn't back to normal, but that's probably due to the painkillers and other drugs. Her wolf is still there, and she can link with her mate and Pack. She won't be allowed to shift until surgeons remove the plate, though."
That was better than me; I didn't know if my wolf would come out if I asked her. She was still there and still hurting. "Did she agree to let me use that photo of us diving for the poster? I know Susan said it was all right, but I'd feel better if Amy said so."
"She remembered the shot and was thrilled to be along for the ride," Mom said. "Kai wasn't as thrilled to find out his mate's ass would be on the walls of teens everywhere."