open her eyes again.
She was in a dim room with wavy, flower-printed walls. She closed her eyes and tried to breathe through the pain. Where was she?
She tried again, opening her eyes a slit. The room was small. There was a faint beeping noise coming from somewhere close by. She looked around. The wavy, flower-printed walls weren’t walls at all. She was surrounded by a curtain.
The memories crashed over her all at once—the headlights, the impact, the rush of voices and sirens. There had been a man with dark hair looming over her with something blue over his mouth and nose. A mask.
You’re in the hospital. Can you tell me your name?
Tabitha sat up. Pain blasted through her skull, taking her breath away. She fell back against the pillow.
She was in a hospital. She wasn’t alone. She sensed people on the other side of the curtain.
Looking around now, she noticed the IV bag. The tube attached to her hand. The plastic bracelet. She lifted her hand and looked at it, struggling to bring the blurry words into focus.
WALKER, TABITHA
An electric jolt went through her. She sat forward. As she stared at the bracelet, her breath came in shallow gasps and her head seemed to expand like a balloon.
They knew her name.
How did they know it? She was supposed to be Rachel Moore, known as “Red” to her co-workers.
She glanced around frantically. Tucked around her was a blue blanket. Beside the bed was a table covered with equipment. There was a chair, too, and on it was a folded pair of jeans and a black T-shirt.
Her clothes.
She glanced down and realized she was wearing a thin cotton hospital gown. How long had she been here? Had she been asleep? In surgery?
Tabitha’s heart thudded as she looked herself over. Aside from the IV in her hand, everything seemed okay. No casts or bandages. The pain seemed to be centered in her head, radiating down from the back of her skull.
A memory flashed through her brain: headlights coming at her. A screech of brakes. She must have conked her head on the pavement when she bounced off the hood of that car. She remembered a crowd of legs around her and wailing sirens.
Tabitha glanced at her wrist again, and the sight of her name sent a burst of adrenaline through her. She pulled off the covers and swung her legs out of bed. She tugged the IV from her hand. A drop of blood oozed out, and she dabbed it with the edge of the gown.
She stood up, but her knees buckled and she sat down. Shaking off the dizziness, she tried again and took a wobbly step toward the chair. Pain ricocheted through her head as she pulled off the hospital gown and reached for her jeans. It took her two tries to step into them. She shoved her fingers into the front pocket.
No wallet! Panic seized her again. The hospital must have confiscated it. Or someone had stolen it. The result was the same. Half of the money she so desperately needed to leave town was gone.
Her bra and underwear were in tatters. It looked like someone had cut them off her with scissors. Same for her T-shirt. She pulled the shirt on anyway and saw that it had been sliced right up the front. She tied the ends together at her navel and blinked down at herself. Her gaze landed on the wristband again, spurring her into action.
She moved toward the curtain and opened it a few inches to see another hospital bed. On it was a long mound covered with a blue blanket. The person was turned away, and she couldn’t tell whether it was a man or a woman. Beside the bed was a pair of plastic slippers. After a quick glance around, Tabitha stepped through the curtain. Her legs felt like wet noodles, but she managed to slide her feet into the shoes, which turned out to be man-sized.
She crept to the edge of the man’s curtain and peered out.
The room was long and rectangular with lots of beds and curtains. The space was dimly lit except for a counter at one end where two women in scrubs sat in front of computers. One wore a headset and seemed to be talking on the phone. The other woman was hunched over the desk reading something. Beyond the desk was a glowing red EXIT sign.
Tabitha took a deep breath to steady herself. She studied the curtains. Four stalls