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He ducked just in time to avoid the wet
washcloth I threw at him.

My near-miss at spontaneous combustion
derailed our discussion of my visit to Nell, but I sensed that
Michael was about to give in anyway. So when Cathryn texted me on
Wednesday that my session that afternoon at Harper Creek had been
cancelled—something had come up in Zoe’s schedule, and Cathryn
herself had appointments to keep—I took it as a sign.

Hurrying up to my room, I changed my t-shirt
for a camisole and cardigan and grabbed the keys to the Mustang.
Michael and I each had a set, and I was glad that I didn’t have to
wait for him to get out of class.

But I wasn’t going to hide what I was doing,
either. I texted him as I walked over to the lot near his dorm,
explaining how the day had unexpectedly opened.

I didn’t expect to hear back from him right
away, but by the time I reached the car, he had replied.

Okay. BE CAREFUL and call me on your way
home. I love you.

Relief flooded me. I hadn’t realized how much
I had dreaded fighting with him over this visit, and I felt
amazingly lighter just knowing he was on board.

The trip was mostly back roads, driving
through the fields and then the rolling hills as I headed west. The
GPS directed me to a state highway for about fifteen minutes, and
then I took an exit that led to more winding pavement. Picturesque
farms ran alongside me, but the cows didn’t even look up as I sped
past.

Finally, I turned into a small driveway that
led me to a fairly empty parking lot. The building in its center
was only two stories high, painted that institutional tan color
that made me feel slightly sick. I wondered if I associated it with
the doctors and hospitals my parents had dragged me to see when I
was very young as they tried to figure out why their daughter was a
mental case.

I parked the Mustang and shot Michael a
message that I’d arrived safely. The drive had been very peaceful,
but now that I was here, my palms were sweating, and my heart beat
sped up at the thought of walking in and seeing Nell.

I took in one deep cleansing breath,
remembering Zoe’s advice about keeping my emotions and powers in
check. The last thing I wanted to do was to shake everything off
the walls in the hospital.

The air up here was significantly cooler than
it had been at school, and I hugged my arms to my ribs as I walked
toward the main doors. I fingered the business card Nell’s father
had sent to me when he’d had his daughter moved back into Florida.
It guaranteed my admittance to her room.

The stereotypical canned music flowed softly
from speakers in the lobby as I approached a small counter in the
center. The woman who sat there working at computer screen—her name
tag read ‘Betty’--glanced up with a smile as I approached.

“May I help you?” She tilted her head, and I
heard her think,
Such a pretty little thing! Here to see a
grandparent, maybe?

“No.” I shook my head and then flushed,
realizing too late that I had answered her thought question instead
of her spoken one. Nerves always did make me careless about that
line. “I mean, yes, thank you.” I fished the card out of my pocket
and slid it across the smooth surface of the counter. “I’m here to
see Nell Massler. Her dad gave me permission.”

The receptionist examined the card before
punching Nell’s name into the computer. I watched her eyes scan the
screen and heard clearly the latest notes on the case.

No change. Patient remains in a persistent
vegetative state. Unresponsive to stimuli.

I bit my lip as the familiar guilt and regret
washed over me. I knew it wasn’t my fault that Nell was lying here
in this depressing hospital—
unresponsive to stimuli
—but the
final blow that stole her awareness had saved my life. I couldn’t
help feeling a little responsible at least.

“Here you go.” Betty handed the card back to
me and motioned down the hallway. “Room 137, on the left.”

“Thank you,” I smiled. The hallways were
fairly nondescript, but I did notice the absence of the smell I’d
come to associate with hospitals. Everything was clean and
well-maintained. It didn’t surprise me that Nick Massler would
install his daughter in the best facility money could buy. She’d
never lacked for material wealth. . .it was just parental attention
that she’d craved and never known.

Another desk was situated in the middle of
the wide hallway. Nurses moved around on their silent shoes, but
none of them spared me more than a passing glance. I only picked up
what I would expect to hear from their thoughts: patient names,
tasks to be completed, paper work to be done.

Nell’s room was nearly at the end of the
corridor. I paused for just a beat to repeat my calming breath
routine before going through the open door.

There was just one bed in the room, against
the far wall. A few machines sat in the corner, but only one small
monitor was connected. I saw the steady flicker of a small light,
but happily the volume had been muted.

I hadn’t seen Nell in person since the day
she’d tried to kill me. My last clear memory before I passed out
was of Reverend Pryce holding her arms as she screamed and flailed.
Of course, that didn’t count our more recent dream visits.

But it was still a shock to see her lying so
very still. Her long hair still had the same beautiful dark sheen
as it spread across the pillow. She had always had almost alabaster
skin, but now it was nearly translucent. Her hands were loosely
draped around her middle, one palm up, as though she had been
asking for something when she fell asleep.

I moved cautiously closer to the bed, keeping
my mind open and alert. Part of me was still afraid that Nell might
suddenly leap from the bed and hold a knife to my throat, even
while I remembered our last encounter, when she’d risked her own
life to save mine from Marica.

But there was nothing from the bed, not
anything like the darkness I’d come to expect from Nell’s mind, not
even the static I picked up when someone was blocking me. There was
only. . .blankness. Nothingness.

I reached out a tentative hand to touch her
arm. Her skin was cool to the touch, and I braced myself for the
inevitable onslaught of feelings I usually picked up from touching
anyone. But again, there was only a blank slate. The monitor on the
far of the bed didn’t register anything but the same rhythmic
blinking.

“Hello.” I jumped and caught my breath, my
heart pounding. A woman in purple scrubs stood at the door, gazing
at me. One eyebrow was raised in question, and I felt her surprise
at seeing me next to Nell’s bed.

“Hi.” I turned but didn’t move away from my
spot. “I’m a—a friend of Nell’s, from high school. Her father gave
me permission to visit.”

“Of course.” The nurse came into the room and
stood at the other side of the bed. I felt her curiosity more than
anything else. She fussed with the blanket for a moment, checked an
intravenous tube I hadn’t noticed until that moment and ran an
affectionate hand over Nell’s hair.

“I’m Sandy,” she said, smiling across at me.
“I’m usually Nell’s nurse on weekdays, when I’m on duty. It’s
wonderful to see you here; she doesn’t get many visitors.”

That didn’t shock me. Nell didn’t exactly
have a huge fan club in high school, and she hadn’t left King on
the best of terms with anyone, even the girls who had claimed to be
her best friends. And then of course, she had been hospitalized out
of state for over a year before her coma.

“I should have come sooner,” I confessed.
“I’m at Perriman College, just a few hours away. But you
know—freshman year. It’s hard. And. . .” I glanced down at Nell’s
face, the dark lashes sweeping over the snow white cheeks. “I
wasn’t sure I could do it. See her like this.”

Sandy nodded. “No one finds it easy. Most of
our patients here are like Nell. But most have visitors at least in
the beginning. If it’s a long term situation, those visits usually
taper off as time goes by. But Nell here, she’s young. I wondered
why there weren’t family or friends coming by, even once a
month.”

“Her father still comes?” It was a question;
I hadn’t spoken with Nick Massler for months, and in the letter
that had arrived with Nell’s new address and permission to visit
her, he had been short and to the point.

“Not often.” Sandy shook her head. “I guess
people think it doesn’t make any difference. You see you’ve come
in, and we’re talking here, and you’ve even touched her. But
there’s no reaction, no change. People find it hard to make the
effort when it doesn’t seem to make any difference.”

“That’s sad,” I remarked.

“Yes, it is. Well, I’ll let you visit with
Nell. Go ahead and pull up that chair there. Do you have any
questions before I go?”

I swallowed hard. “Can she hear us, do you
think?”

The nurse tilted her head. “Well, the jury’s
still out on that, but most of us who work here think so. There
have been people who have come out of comas with some sort of
memory of what went on around them. And sometimes we notice
responses that can’t necessarily be documented medically. I think,
why not assume she can? Talk to her, tell her what’s going on in
your life. First year of college—that’s got to be exciting!”

Sandy patted my shoulder as I sank into the
chair. I reached out again and smoothed a hand over Nell’s
shoulder, wincing at the boniness.

“Hi, Nell,” I began. “So. . .I should
probably begin by saying thank you. What you did when Marica—last
spring—it saved my life. You bought me time, and you made a
difference. I don’t know if anyone told you that. I don’t know if
you even knew that I’m okay. And I made the changes we talked
about. I ended things with Rafe, and I’m back with Michael.
Everything is good again, Nell. Thanks to you.”

I paused, not sure how to go on from there.
With my friends, I’d be chatting about classes and life in the
dorm, but I’d never had that kind of relationship with Nell. She’d
hated me on sight and most of our conversations consisted of her
threatening me, warning me away from Marica or pointing out my
shortcomings. In her dream visits, she didn’t waste time on small
talk. So I wasn’t really sure what she’d want to hear.

Then I remembered her letter, the last words
she’d sent to me, the confirmation that her visits to me had been
more than just dreams all along.

“Marica is gone.” I slid my hand down her arm
and squeezed Nell’s fingers. “She was institutionalized for a while
here, and then someone came over from Romania and took her back
home. I heard she won’t be allowed back in this country.” I closed
my eyes, tamping down the small sparks of terror that even the idea
of Marica Lacusta still gave me. “So I’m safe, and so are you.”

If I were hoping for a response, I was
disappointed. There was no movement from the bed, no change in the
silent monitor.

“I guess if I were you, Nell, I’d have a
spell or a chant. . .some way to bring you back. If this is a
mystical coma--” I dropped my voice; no need to give the nurses any
excuse to check me into a padded room. “If this came from magiks,
maybe there’s a way to bring you back. But then, I never did have
your talent in that area.”

It was true. Marica never worked with me on
spells; she was more interested in developing my natural talents.
Which made me think. . .

Gripping Nell’s hand a little tighter,
holding it palm to palm with my own, I closed my eyes and focused
on her mind again. It was still blank. I reached within myself,
into the deep well of power that frightened me as much as it
intrigued me.

It was a delicate balance. I couldn’t blast
her; I wasn’t sure what that might do. But maybe just a little
push, a little infusion of energy. . .I saw the stream channel into
Nell and waited to see if anything changed.

Nothing. In fact, it almost felt as if I were
hitting a wall of some sort. Frowning, I amped up my stream just a
bit. This time I was certain—it wasn’t reaching Nell. Something was
blocking me.

I loosed my hold on her hand and stood,
stretching. I hadn’t really expected it to work, but it was
frustrating to be completely helpless in the face of her comatose
state. I curled up in the chair again and spent the next hour
updating Nell on her so-called friends from high school, as much as
I had heard.

“. . .and Liza got into a school in
California. I think she was as surprised as the rest of us.” I
glanced up at the clock on the wall as I noted the shadows moving
across the room. It was getting late, and the idea of driving
unfamiliar back roads in the dark didn’t excite me.

“Nell, I have to go now. I need to get back
to school. . .Michael will be worried.” I swallowed hard. Part of
me wanted nothing more than to get away from this room as fast as I
could, but the idea of leaving Nell here, alone again, broke my
heart.