Her gaze flicked down the hallway and up to the security mirrors on the ceiling and back again. A few orderlies and a nurse or two passed her, but no one took her for anything other than a patient out for a walk. Perfect.
The hallway cleared and she shuffled faster toward the stairway. Opening the door and maneuvering the walker through it was harder than she expected. Abandoning it here would tip them off.
She was breathing hard by the time she maneuvered it down two flights of stairs. The longer she was in the stairwell, the higher her chance of getting caught. She’d wanted to go farther, but there was no way she could drag the damn thing down more stairs. This was her stop, then.
Dizzie used the small window in the door and a security mirror to ensure the hall was clear before she slipped out of the stairwell. She left the walker in front of a restroom, then shuffled down the hallway as if she belonged there.
She needed to find a patient room for the final piece of her plan: leave her medical bracelet on another patient.
Dizzie had scraped her nail along the inside of the band over and over again, gently shaving away enough plastic to slide it off her wrist. The exchange had to be quick. Any interruption in her vitals and they might send someone to check on her. In order for her plan to work, Dizzie needed someone who wouldn’t argue. Someone who wouldn’t notice getting a second bracelet.
Trying to be casual, she glanced into the rooms that lined the corridor. Many were empty. Some she couldn’t tell. Every few feet, Dizzie scanned the hallway. This floor had a lot less traffic than the one her room was on. The quiet was almost creepy.
Finally she found a room that had nothing but a patient lying in a bed. The beeping was too steady, the breathing too shallow. To her untrained eye, it didn’t seem like a natural sleep. Were they in a coma?
Slipping through the door, Dizzie carefully closed it behind her. The scent of hospital disinfectants lingered in the air, but the smell of sadness was stronger. Besides the bed and the monitors, the only objects in the room were a small plastic plant on a corner table and a single chair in the corner. In case a visitor dropped by?
Was this what would happen to her? Would she die alone?
Dizzie sighed and struggled to ignore the aching sense of loss.
She ducked into the corner of the room, hoping she wouldn’t be seen by anyone passing by. “Hello?” She spoke quietly at first. “Hello?”
Not a twitch from the bed. No beeps from the monitor.
This was it. Dizzie crossed to the bed and crouched on the far side. She grabbed the patient’s fingers. They were warm but thin. Lifeless, even with a slow, steady pulse.
Lacing their fingers together, Dizzie tugged at her bracelet with her free hand. It slid along her wrist but got caught on the bump of her thumb. Dammit.
She released the patient’s hand, but kept their fingertips touching. That provided enough wiggle room to slide the band over her own thumb and fingers and onto the woman. At least, she thought it was a woman. The patient was so skinny.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I hope this doesn’t get you in trouble.”
Her instincts screamed at her to leave, but Dizzie forced herself to wait. She had to make sure the presence of the second medical tag didn’t cause any problems.
While she waited, Dizzie removed the robe and the slippers. She slid them both under the bed, hiding them in the shadows. Keeping an eye on the door, she perched on the edge of the visitor’s chair and slipped on the heels. Then she twisted her hair into a low bun.
This was it. It didn’t appear that anyone had noticed the switch, but she didn’t dare linger. Dizzie crept to the door and opened it slowly. The hallways remained eerily empty. The kind of place where a new face would be noticed.
She followed the signs for the elevator. Peeking around a corner, she saw the elevator as well as the nurses’ station. Only one person sat at the desk. That fit with the sad, abandoned vibe the floor gave off.
Though the nurse at the desk wasn’t facing the elevators, Dizzie worried he’d turn around. He shifted slightly and she jumped back around her corner, her heart pounding a mile a minute.
Good thing she wasn’t wearing that bracelet anymore. Otherwise, a nurse would have been rushing to see what was wrong with her.
Dizzie calmed down and looked around the corner. The nurse had barely moved. From this angle, she could see the screen over his shoulder. He was playing games. Must be a cushy shift, just waiting in case someone woke up.
That would work in her favor. If he felt secure enough to game on the job, it was highly unlikely that anyone came to walk around this floor this time of day.
She watched him play and when he showed no signs of moving, she dashed across the floor to the elevator and punched the button.
The elevator button lit up, but there was no sound. She willed the elevator to come quickly. And to be empty.
When the elevator doors opened, there was one person already in it. He looked a little surprised to stop, but she stepped in as if she belonged and pressed the button for the lobby. She took up a position in the corner and kept the other occupant in her peripheral vision. The wall to her back provided her with the illusion of safety.
In her courier clothes, she was used to being ignored. Dressed like a corporate office worker, Dizzie kept waiting for someone to notice her.
Each ding signifying another floor took her one step closer to her freedom. Each stop also ratcheted up her tension. The closer they got to the lobby, the more she struggled to maintain a relaxed posture. The whole elevator ride, she waited to be caught.
