Hospitals are a place where people are either saved or die. That's a fact. Either you walk out of there or you don't. If we're talking basic statistics you have a fifty-fifty shot of making it out alive because you only have two options.

Two options. Two twins. Both with the chance of living or dying. Statistically there was only a twenty five percent chance they would both make it out of there alive.

White walls, and the smell of antiseptic greeted her as she slowly opened her eyes. Her head was throbbing and everything in her body hurt. She was suddenly conscious of every limb, bone, and muscle, and it seemed like every single one of them was trying to kill her with the pain: begging her to give in, to surrender.

There was a nurse. That much she could tell. Her vision still hadn't snapped into focus completely.

"Easy. Don't move too much, you'll just make the pain worse. Here, try to drink some of this water. You were in a car accident yesterday, and now you are in the hospital. You had surgery on your right arm to fix several fractures and breaks. You suffered a concussion and a large laceration on your head that required stitches. Other than several areas of bruising, including your ribs, you got pretty lucky given the severity of the crash," the nurse's voice was surprisingly calm as she delivered the verdict.

A crash? The girl didn't remember an accident. She really didn't remember much at all from the night before. Trying to pull the memories back was intensifying the pain in her head. A party? Yes. A party. And her sister was there. Wasn't she? Her sister. Where was her sister?

"Where's L—"

"Shhh don't worry. She had it much worse than you, but the doctors are doing everything they can," the nurse's voice was sweet and smooth as honey. For some reason she couldn't form comprehensive thoughts about what had happened to her, but the thought that the nurse's voice would be great for audio books came in clearly.

Her sister. What happened to her sister? Car accident. It was like she was listening to her own thoughts over a radio station that was just out of range.

"I need to see her," her voice was broken, and she hated it. She hated the way her voice scratched with each word as they clawed their way out of her throat and proclaimed mockingly to the world how weak and vulnerable she was.

"She's in a coma. I'm sorry. The doctors are doing everything they can. They're hopeful, but your sister wouldn't want you to see her like this. The doctors are doing everything they can," the nurse's voice was no longer comforting.

What did this stranger know about what her sister would want? 'The doctors are doing everything they can' sounded like the most rehearsed line she'd ever heard. Everything? They sure as hell better be doing everything they could. A coma? How did this happen? How did this happen?

Her instinct was to blow up and storm out of the room demanding to see her sister, to prove to herself she was alive, and to defy anyone who tried to get in her way. She could even rip the IV out of her arm to add to the drama, but she didn't.

Lynn wouldn't want her to do that. Lynn was in a coma and she wouldn't want her sister to make a scene.

Lexi could say that because she knew her twin, that nurse on the other hand knew nothing about her. The pain she would have to endure to get up and walk to the room coupled with the fear of what she might see when she got there kept Lexi still.

Lynn would want her to cooperate and keep her head on straight. Lynn wouldn't be freaking out so much that her heartrate on the monitor was skyrocketing. Lynn would know what to do or say, but Lynn wasn't here. Lynn was in a coma and Lexi didn't know what to do with that information. She was stuck sitting in this suffocating, excessively white room wondering if she'd ever have the chance to talk to her sister again.

***

Lexi was sleeping again, or at least trying to, because it was the only thing that dulled the pain and quieted her thoughts. She guessed it was late afternoon on the day after the accident when the voices drew her out of sleep.

"I need you to cancel my dinner with the CEO of the marketing company we're hiring and reschedule it for next week. Leave all of my meetings for Monday alone for now. I have to handle a few things here, but I'm sure everything will be sorted out by Monday," her mother's voice spit off orders at a rapid pace into the blackberry she held to her ear as she paced the room. Her heels clicked on the linoleum so loudly it intensified Lexi's headache.

"Mom," Lexi's voice was barely stronger than it was that morning.

She rolled her eyes, though it was quite uncomfortable, as her mother held up her pointer finger asking her daughter to wait a minute. Some things never change. She closed her eyes to block out the harsh hospital lights as she waited for her mother to finish talking to her assistant. The poor guy rarely got a vacation let alone a minute of peace.

"Now Lexi how are you feeling darling?" Quinn Hartman sat down in the chair next to her daughter's bed, crossed her legs, and patted her daughter's hand, once.

"Not great, but better than a few hours ago. How's Lynn?"

"Well she's not waking up, so it's hard to tell. Your father is in with her. The doctors keep going on about a coma and possible damage to her spine, but honestly what do doctors at a local hospital know? Your father called in a professional, and he should be here soon," her mother smoothed back an incorrigible piece of hair that fell out of the bun that sat neatly at the nape of her neck. Her white blouse showed no signs of wrinkles and she was still wearing her grey blazer and pant set, which mean she'd come straight from the office and hadn't been at the hospital long.

"Mom I don't think there are many other ways to diagnose a coma when someone isn't waking up," Lexi tried to remain patient. She and her mother had never gotten along well, particularly when they were alone. It was always much easier to put up with her mother's pretentious nature when Lynn was there to diffuse the situation.

"Either way a second, smarter opinion can't hurt. Now what happened last night. I asked Jenny when she called, but she was so frantic about rushing to the hospital that she never got around to telling me what happened?" her detached tone was expected, but difficult to swallow nonetheless. Jenny, their childhood nanny, was probably worried sick unlike their mother.

"I don't completely remember. Can I see Lynn?"

"Soon."

So Lynn's the one who's hurt and Lexi can't remember what happened?  This can't be good.  What do you think of Mrs. Hartman so far?  Comment your thoughts and don't forget to vote!