“No pain? Blood in your urine? Headaches?”
The water is insanely cool against my raw throat and I gulp several mouthfuls while she speaks. When she finishes, I lower the bottle and gaze blearily up at her. “Nothing. I mean… I do have a headache, but I think that’s just from throwing up.”
“Hmm.” Her face wrinkles somewhat, then she holds out her hand for me. I take it and she helps me to my feet with a smile. “Any joint pain?”
“Only my neck but considering the shit I’m sleeping on, I’m not sure it’s related.”
“If we’re lucky then you’ve just caught a stomach bug. That plus the amplification of stress could be why you’re so unwell.”
“Aren’t you supposed to tell me to suck it up?” I follow Maisie out of the bathroom and back into her small office. When I was here a few days ago to get blood taken, I almost threw up on her desk.
“Why would I tell you that?”
“Because I’m a prisoner? You’re not supposed to be nice to me.”
Maisie sucks on her teeth while offering me a seat. “The reason you’re here doesn’t matter to me. It’s not my job to judge people. I’m here to care for them.”
“And save the cops from a lawsuit about prisoner death.”
“Yes, that too.”
I gulp down more water while Maisie sits on the other side of her desk. “Were the anti-nausea pills any use?”
“Couldn’t keep them down.”
“I’m presuming that in your days before your arrest, you were eating and drinking local cuisine?”
I nod.
“That rules out the water being the cause. It’s common for visitors to struggle with the water when they come from so far away, a little upset stomach and such, but that wouldn’t explain why you’re so sick now.”
“I’m telling you, I’m being poisoned.”
Her gaze snaps up from her notes. “Is that a serious comment?”
As fun as it would be to pull her leg, I’m exhausted. Vomiting and the stress of being here with Richard breathing down my neck and no clue as to Cian’s whereabouts is draining me. “No,” I sigh. “I’m just being a dick.”
Maisie returns to her notes and resumes scribbling. “I’m going to give you a stronger anti-nausea and I’d like to give you a shot to boost your immune system. Since you’re unable to keep anything down, your body is lacking.”
“Do what you gotta do, Doc.”
As Maisie rises and grabs her keys, another wave of cramps urges through my gut, forcing me to double over. After a few seconds of heavy breathing while Maise unlocks her medicine cabinet, it passes and she presses a small pill into my hand. “Here, take this.”
“You said other prisoners,” I say, unscrewing the water bottle cap again. “There are other people still here?”
A ping from Maisie’s computer draws her back to her desk as she nods. “Of course.”
“What about the man I came in with?”
Her brow furrows as she sits. “I can’t talk to you about any other patients, Faina.”
“He’s a patient?”
“You know what I mean. I can’t discuss anyone with you.”
“I don’t want to discuss him, I just want to know if he’s—” The words die as Maise suddenly surges out of her chair and lunges at me with a yelp. I lean back in alarm and she slaps the anti-nausea pill right out of my hand just as I lift it toward my mouth.
“Don’t!”
