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unfamiliar city. To see houses and apartments and stores with signs lit up. To know I was surrounded, outnumbered. I imagined what it must feel like for Jared. His voice was remarkably calm. But he'd done this before, many times.

Other cars were on the road now. When their lights washed my windshield, I cringed in terror.

Don't fall apart now, Wanda. You have to be strong for Jamie. This won't work if you can't do that.

I can. I can do it.

I concentrated on Jamie, and my hands were steadier on the wheel.

Jared directed me through the mostly sleeping city. The Healing facility was just a small place. It must have been a medical building once-doctors' offices, rather than an actual hospital. The lights were bright through most of the windows, through the glass front. I could see a woman behind a greeting desk. She didn't look up at my headlights. I drove to the darkest corner of the parking lot.

I slid my arms through the straps of the backpack. It wasn't new, but it was in good shape. Perfect. There was just one more thing to do.

"Quick, give me the knife."

"Wanda... I know you love Jamie, but I really don't think you could use it. You're not a fighter."

"Not for them, Jared. I need a wound."

He gasped. "You have a wound. That's enough!"

"I need one like Jamie's. I don't know enough about Healing. I have to see exactly what to do. I would have done it before, but I wasn't sure I'd be able to drive."

"No. Not again."

"Give it to me now. Someone will notice if I don't go inside soon."

Jared thought it through quickly. He was the best, as Jeb had said, because he could see what had to be done and do it fast. I heard the steely sound of the knife coming out of the sheath.

"Be very careful. Not too deep."

"You want to do it?"

He inhaled sharply. "No."

"Okay."

I took the ugly knife. It had a heavy handle and was very sharp; it came to a tapered point at the tip.

I didn't let myself think about it. I didn't want to give myself a chance to be a coward. The arm, not the leg-that's all I paused to decide. My knees were scarred. I didn't want to have to hide that, too.

I held my left arm out; my hand was shaking. I braced it against the door and then twisted my head so that I could bite down on the headrest. I held the knife's handle awkwardly but tightly in my right hand. I pressed the point against the skin of my forearm so I wouldn't miss. Then I closed my eyes.

Jared was breathing too hard. I had to be fast or he would stop me.

Just pretend it's a shovel opening the ground, I told myself.

I jammed the knife into my arm.

The headrest muffled my scream, but it was still too loud. The knife fell from my hand-jerking sickeningly out from the muscle-and then clunked against the floor.

"Wanda!" Jared rasped.

I couldn't answer yet. I tried to choke back the other screams I felt coming. I'd been right not to do this before driving.

"Let me see!"

"Stay there," I gasped. "Don't move."

I heard the blanket rustling behind me despite my warning. I pulled my left arm against my body and yanked the door open with my right hand. Jared's hand brushed my back as I half fell out the door. It wasn't a restraint. It was comfort.

"I'll be right back," I coughed out, and then I kicked the door shut behind me.

I stumbled across the lot, fighting nausea and panic. They seemed to balance each other out-one keeping the other from taking control of my body. The pain wasn't too bad-or rather, I couldn't feel it as much anymore. I was going into shock. Too many kinds of pain, too close together. Hot liquid rolled down my fingers and dripped to the pavement. I wondered if I could move those fingers. I was afraid to try.

The woman behind the reception desk-middle-aged, with dark chocolate skin and a few silver threads in her black hair-jumped to her feet when I lurched through the automatic doors.

"Oh, no! Oh, dear!" She grabbed a microphone, and her next words echoed from the ceiling, magnified. "Healer Knits! I need you in reception! This is an emergency!"

"No." I tried to speak calmly, but I swayed in place. "I'm okay. Just an accident."

She put the microphone down and hurried around to where I stood swaying. Her arm went

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