Ten minutes later, I am regretting every life choice that has led me to this moment.
"Relax, Mr. Bromley," I grunt, sweat trickling down my temple. My arm is deep inside the unknown. "Think of the Feng Shui."
"It feels quite... full," Mr. Bromley notes politely, clutching the rails of the bed.
"That’s because it’s a sphere, Mr. Bromley!" I snap. "It’s not aerodynamic!"
I have my left hand on his hip for leverage. My right hand is acting as a human crowbar. The suction is incredible. It is defying the laws of physics. It is like the 8-Ballwantsto stay there. It has found a home.
"I’m going to need you to push," I instruct.
"Push?"
"Yes! Like you’re trying to launch a satellite!"
"Okay, here goes!"
Mr. Bromley pushes. I pull.
There is a noise.
It isn't a dignified noise. It is a wet, squelchingTHWOCK—the sound of a boot being pulled out of deep mud.
The seal breaks.
"Incoming!" I yell.
The Magic 8-Ball rockets out of Mr. Bromley like a cannonball.
It flies. It actually flies.
It hits my chest with a dull thud, bounces off my sternum, and lands on the linoleum floor with a wet smack.
A split second later, the... aftermath follows.
I jump back. My reflexes are honed by years ofdodging champagne corks. I do a pirouette that would make the Bolshoi Ballet proud.
The splash zone misses my Gucci loafers by a millimetre. A single drop of unidentifiable fluid lands on the toe of my left shoe.
I stare at it. It stares back.
"Oh, bravo!" Mr. Bromley claps weakly. "I feel much lighter."
I stand there, breathing heavily. My pristine scrubs are ruffled. My dignity is in tatters. But the object is out.
I bend down—carefully—and pick up the Magic 8-Ball with a gloved hand. I wipe the viewing window with a piece of gauze.
The blue triangle floats up through the murk.
OUTLOOK NOT SO GOOD.
"You can say that again," I mutter.
I walk out of Bay 4 holding a biohazard bag containing the contraband.
Dr. Silva is standing at the nurses' station, typing on a computer. Mama Ortiz is next to him, peeling an orange.
They both stop when they see me.
