“Ask her what she felt when he was touching her,” the scarred man barked.
She didn’t like his voice, and she didn’t like him speaking as if she wasn’t even in the room. And she wanted to go home. To her cozy one-story house with the flower boxes in the windows and the neat sidewalk that was all bordered in flawless flower beds, just like the house itself. Her house was sunny and yellow and orderly and neat, and above everything else, it was safe.
Safe. Like the big maple tree at her grandpa’s house, when she used to go there as a child and play tag with her neighbors. The giant tree was always safe. She’d convinced herself that her home was the same way. Off-limits. No one could get to her there. No pain, no violence. Home was her haven.
“When the stranger put his hands on you, what did you feel?” asked the woman with the Stevie Nicks voice and Cruella de Vil hair—Lillian, Lucy remembered.
“I was terrified. I’d just been shot. At least…I thought I had. I was covered in blood, and it hurt, it really did. But I guess I must have…hallucinated it, or maybe I hurt myself when I fell down.”
“What did you feel physically?” the woman went on. “When the stranger put his hands on you?”
“Oh, that. Well…his hands felt…warm. And then hot. And it seemed like there was a light sort of…coming from them. And it filled every part of me. And for just a second, I thought I might be dying, and that he was an angel.”
“An angel,” the man said, nearly spitting the words.
“That’s an interesting thing to say.”
Lucy sighed. “I really want to go home now. I’m all right, aren’t I? I mean, I wasn’t shot after all, right?”
“Well, there are certainly no bullet holes in you now,” the woman said, sounding cheerful. And then she got up and joined the man, then spoke in a very, very soft whisper, “The pentothal is wearing off. Is there anything else you want, before…?”
“Ask her about her blood type. We tested her, came back positive for the antigen. I want to know if she knew.”
Why, Lucy wondered, did they think she couldn’t hear them?
But Lillian was returning to her bedside now. Lucy heard the woman’s footsteps on the floor tiles. Smelled the soap she used, too.
“Lucy, do you know if there’s anything…unusual about your blood type?”
“Yes, there is. It’s…very rare. Only a few people have it. It makes me bleed easily. And it’s hard to find a donor to match me, which is why I donate regularly and have my own supply in storage. But that’s at Binghamton General—and I keep some at Lourdes, too. That’s another reason why I was so afraid when I saw all that blood all over me.” She paused, opening her eyes now. “If it wasn’t my blood, whose was it?”
“We don’t know. Can you tell me any more about your blood ty—”
“But how can you not know? If someone else was shot on that sidewalk, how could you not—”
“Lucy, I’d like you to take a breath and calm yourself.” The woman put a soothing hand on Lucy’s forehead. “A lot of people were shot at that studio last night. Inside and outside. It was chaos. And I wasn’t there. I’m sure someone knows the answers to your questions, but it’s not me.”
Lucy sighed. “I want to go home.” She sat up in the bed and looked around the white room while waves of dizziness washed over her brain. “Where are my things?”
“Lucy, about your blood type,” Lillian said. “Is there anything else you can tell me about the Belladonna Antigen?”
Lucy blinked and met the woman’s eyes. Her head was beginning to feel clearer. “How do you know? I never told you what it’s called.”
“We want to know what you know about it.”
“What kind of a medical question is that?” Lucy narrowed her eyes, suddenly suspicious of this woman, who she’d assumed was a doctor or a shrink—or maybe a grief counselor, sent in to help her process what had happened.
“You want to know if I’m aware that I’m going to die young? I am. There’s no treatment, and there’s no cure. People with this antigen usually die in their thirties. And I’m in mine now, but so far I feel fine. No symptoms.”
“And what would those symptoms be?”
“You tell me, you’re the doctor.” Lucy watched the woman’s face and knew, just knew.