Chapter 49
Lucy
Iwake in a gray room, the sheet slippery and rumpled beneath me. My hand hurts. My arm hurts. My chest hurts. A lot. My mouth is dry.
I’m hooked up to a machine. The last thing I remember is Dirk, the white hot heat of my fury with him, and then, strangely, a sense of peace.
I’m in a hospital bed. A nurse bustles in and types something into a mobile computer.
“Hello?” I try, my voice croaky.
“You’re under observation,” he says and makes some notes.
I’m in a gray gown; not my color, and there’s a horrendous space behind it. The thing has no seam at the back!
“What’s happening?” I say.
“Close call. Heart attack. You’re lucky. A neighbor saved you, from what I hear. He’s been enquiring about you. Bit of a hero. Speaking of whom ...”
