Cad, Ms. Dale, and I had walked into the room toward the end of the exchange. When I’d seen Violet pawing her head, a scalpel loose on her bed, her face a mixture of confusion and anger… the scene had been difficult to comprehend. The worst part had been when she had looked at me. There had been no recognition, no acknowledgement in her gaze, just a glazed, blank look, as if she were seeing me for the first time. And then the horror that had filled her silver eyes as I’d approached to help Dr. Tierney.
Nervous, I ran a hand over Violet’s hair and looked at the doctor. “Are you okay?”
Dr. Tierney gave a shuddering cough and forced herself to straighten from the hunch she was clearly sinking into. She nodded. “I’m fine,” she replied, her voice hoarse. “It’s not the first time I’ve had to deal with a troublesome or confused patient. She just caught me off guard.”
I winced. “Solar plexus?” I asked, and she nodded, her mouth turning down in distaste.
“Yeah. I’ve never felt torn between the decision to breathe or vomit before. So that was new and fun.”
A laugh escaped my throat as her quip took me by surprise, but it was only a momentary distraction from the current of worry that seemed to be all that was fueling my body right now. “Is she all right?”
Dr. Tierney gave me a hard look, then shook her head slowly. “No. I’m sorry, Viggo, but she is not all right. If she’s having hallucinations this severe… then it’s definitely worse than I thought.”
I looked over at Cad and Ms. Dale, who were hovering at the foot of the bed, silently listening to our conversation. Cad’s face was white as he looked at his cousin, while Ms. Dale’s had snapped shut in that familiar, neutral mask again, like someone had slammed the door closed on her face. I recognized it as a coping mechanism on her part—whenever she felt overly emotional, she would revert to that carefully crafted mask. But now, to me, that only made it clear she was worried as well.
“What’s wrong with her?” I asked, turning back to Dr. Tierney.
She had moved over to the black case she had brought from the Liberator base and was in the process of opening it. She didn’t stop at the question, pulling items out of it and lining them up on the desk right next to her.
“I think Dr. Arlan was correct in his findings,” she said, her voice clinical. “Violet definitely has bleeding in her brain. It’s what’s causing her hallucinations and probably also part of the dizziness and difficulty with motor functions. If it’s really affecting her eyesight, too, at least I have an idea what part of the brain might be affected. Now that she’s really out, we can take a look at her with that portable scanner and see exactly what it is so I can operate as soon as possible.” She looked me straight in the eyes—compassion and deep, serious worry measuring equally in her gaze. “Having a concussion and a burst eardrum on top of that… I can’t imagine how Violet even sat up. She must have been completely panicked to even try to move. The only reason a person in this condition would do what she did is complete desperation.”
Dr. Tierney’s words settling in my gut like stones, I looked back at Violet. She had finally settled into her pillow, but that was somehow worse than her agitation. Under the bruising, her face was ashen, the blood completely drained from her lips, and dark shadows hid under her eyes. She looked gaunt, like she was wasting away. In fact, looking at her, it was hard not to see a woman who was about to die.
Letting out a curse, I turned my attention to Dr. Tierney. “What can I do for her?”
Dr. Tierney stood up and turned around, indecision on her face. Then she sucked in a breath and nodded. “Well, I’m going to need help, but anyone who can’t hack the idea of gross medical procedures, just get the hell out. Ms. Dale, if you would be so kind as to fetch your other doctor, I’m going to need him as well. I don’t care if he’s awake yet. This needs to happen now.”
Ms. Dale nodded and turned, heading out the door. Cad looked nervously at Dr. Tierney. “Can I do anything?”
She hesitated again, studying the younger man, her own lack of sleep becoming apparent for a moment as she blinked. “Who are you?” she asked.
“This is Cad Thorne,” I informed her, before Cad could introduce himself. “He’s Violet’s cousin.”
Dr. Tierney’s eyes widened in surprise. “You’re the young man from the video,” she said, realization coloring her tone. “I remember you—the image of you was a bit fuzzy, but…”
“What video?” Cad cut in, his face reflecting his confusion.