“Thomas?” she said.
“I’m here, dear.” He picked up her hand.
“I’m afraid,” she said, shocked to feel tears running out from under the bandages.
“Cassi, why are you crying?”
“I don’t know,” said Cassi, remembering that it was because Robert was dead. She started to tell Thomas but began to weep so hard she couldn’t talk.
“You have to get control of yourself. It’s important for your eye.”
“I feel so alone.”
“Nonsense. I’m here with you. You have a bevy of attentive nurses. You’re in the best hospital. Now just try to relax.”
“I can’t,” said Cassi.
“I think you need more sedatives,” said Thomas. Cassi could hear Thomas talk to the other person in the room.
“I don’t want another shot,” she said.
“But I’m the doctor and you’re the patient,” said Thomas.
Afterward Cassi was glad he’d insisted. She felt herself drift off into merciful sleep while Thomas was talking to her.
Thomas pressed the nurse’s call button. When the nurse arrived, he stood up from his perch on the bedside. “I want you to give her two sleeping pills this evening. She was wandering the halls last night after one dose, and we certainly don’t want her up tonight.”
The nurse left, and Thomas waited a little longer to make sure Cassi remained asleep. Within minutes her mouth fell open and she began a throaty, uncharacteristic snoring. Thomas walked to the door, hesitated, then returned to the bureau and opened the bottom drawer. As he’d expected, the SSD data had not been touched. Under the circumstances he didn’t want Cassi to be pulling it out as soon as her patches came off.
Quickly he picked up the computer printout and slipped it under his arm. With a final glance over at Cassi, Thomas left the room and walked down to the nurses’ station. He asked for the head nurse, Miss Bright.
“I’m afraid that my wife is not standing up too well to the stress,” said Thomas apologetically.
Miss Bright smiled at Dr. Kingsley. She knew him professionally very well. It was a surprise to hear him admit anyone might have a human weakness. For the first time she felt sorry for him. Obviously having his wife in the hospital was a strain on him, too.
“We’ll take good care of Cassi,” she said.
“I’m not her doctor and don’t want to interfere, but as I told the other nurse, I think for psychological reasons she should be kept under pretty heavy sedation.”
“I’ll see to it,” said Miss Bright. “And don’t you worry.”
Cassi could not remember having had dinner, although the nurse who brought in sleeping pills assured her that she had.
“I don’t remember it at all,” said Cassi.
“That’s not a very good recommendation for the hospital kitchen,” said the nurse. “Nor for me. I fed it to you.”
“What about my diabetes?” asked Cassi.
“You’ve been doing fine. We gave you a little extra insulin after your meal, but otherwise it’s all in here.” The nurse knocked the IV bottle with her knuckle so Cassi could hear. “And here’s your sleep meds.”
Cassi dutifully put out her right hand and felt two pills drop into her palm. She put them in her mouth. Then, reaching out again, she felt the glass of water.
“Do you think you need a sedative too?”
“I don’t think so,” said Cassi. “I feel like I’ve slept all day.”
“It’s good for you. Now your night table is right here.”
The nurse took the glass from Cassi, then guided her hand over the bedside rail so she could feel the water glass, pitcher, telephone, and call button.
“Is there anything else?” asked the nurse. “Do you have any pain?”
“No, thank you,” said Cassi. She was surprised she’d had so little discomfort from the operation.
“Do you want me to switch off the TV?”
“No,” said Cassi. She liked the sound.
“Okay, but here’s the switch.” The nurse guided Cassi’s hand to the button by the side of the bed. “Have a good night’s sleep, and if you want anything, give us a call.”
After the nurse left, Cassi did a little exploring of her own. Reaching out, she touched the side table. The nurse had pulled it away from the wall so it would be slightly more accessible. With some difficulty she pulled out the metal drawer and felt for her watch. Thomas had given it to her, and she wondered if she should have it put in the hospital safe. She didn’t find it immediately. Her hand touched her own vials of insulin and a handful of syringes. The watch was under the syringes. It was probably safe enough.
She pulled her hand back under the covers. As the medicine took hold she realized why people were tempted to misuse it. It made reality recede. The problems were there, but at a distance. She could think of Robert without feeling the pain of his loss. She remembered how peacefully he had been sleeping last night. She hoped his death had been as calm.
Cassi suddenly pulled herself back from the abyss of sleep. With a jolt she realized that she must have been one of the last people to see Robert alive. She wondered at what time he’d died. If only she’d been there maybe she could have done something. Thomas certainly might have saved him.
Cassi stared into the darkness of her eyelids. The memory of Thomas coming into Robert’s room replayed itself slowly in her mind. She remembered her shock at seeing him. Thomas had said that when he hadn’t found Cassi in her room, he’d assumed she was visiting Robert. That had satisfied her at the time, but now Cassi wondered why Thomas would have been visiting her in the middle of the night.
Cassi tried to imagine what the autopsy on Robert showed, wondering specifically if a definitive mechanism of death was found. She didn’t want to think about such things, but she found herself worrying if Robert had been cyanotic or if he’d convulsed at the time of his death. All at once Cassi began to fear that Robert might have been a candidate for his own study. He could have been case twenty. What if the last person to see Robert alive had been Thomas? What if Thomas had gone back to Robert’s room after he’d left her? What if Thomas’s sudden change of behavior was not as innocent as it appeared?
Cassi began to shake. She knew she was being paranoid, and knew how self-fulfilling delusions could be. She understood the stress she’d been under, and she’d had an enormous amount of drugs, including the sleep medication that she could already feel sapping her ability to think.
Yet her mind would not give up its horrifying thoughts. Involuntarily she found herself recognizing the fact that the first SSD case occurred at the same time as Thomas’s residency. Cassi wondered if any of the deaths coincided with the nights Thomas had spent in the hospital.
All at once she became aware of her utter dependency and vulnerability. She was alone in a private room with an IV running, blindfolded and sedated. There was no way for her even to know when someone came into the room. There was no way for her to defend herself.
Cassi wanted to scream for help, but she was paralyzed with fear. She drew herself up into a ball. Seconds passed, then minutes. Eventually Cassi remembered the call button. Ever so slowly she inched her hand in its direction, half expecting her fingers to encounter some unknown enemy. When she touched the plastic cylinder, she pressed the button, holding it down with her thumb.
No one came. It seemed as if she had been waiting for an eternity. She let the button out and pushed it again several more times, praying for the nurse to hurry. At any second she expected something terrible to happen. She didn’t know what, just something terrible.
“What is it?” asked the nurse curtly, pulling Cassi’s hand away from the call button. “You only have to ring once, and we’ll come as soon as we can. You have to remember there are a lot of patients on this floor and most are sicker than you are.”
“I want to change rooms,” said Cassi. “I want to go back to a semiprivate.”