"You've slept for fourteen hours," Faye informed me. "Do you feel better?"
I tried sitting up to no avail. I blacked out from pain and hit the pillows again. "No," I moaned.
"You don't look so good." Her eyes darted around nervously. "Should I call the nurse or something?"
"Water," I croaked. My throat felt like sandpaper.
"On it," she said and was back with a cup in less than a minute.
"Thanks."
I drained the cup while Faye stared at me. It was more than a little uncomfortable so I called her out on it. "What's with the creeper face?"
She squirmed, clearly as uncomfortable as I was. "I passed Nick on the way in to check on you yesterday—you were asleep—and he looked pretty upset. What did you say to him?"
What did I say? I couldn't remember. "It's kind of a haze, really. I don't know what we talked about but I'm pretty sure whatever it was didn't make sense."
"He looked like he was going to be sick."
What could I have said that would disgust him so much? He works in surgeries and kills people as a hobby. He's not squeamish. Unless…oh no. What if I talked about why Cindy and I wanted to escape in the first place?
He'd asked what happened to me once and I shut him down. If he'd asked again while I was drugged, I might have answered. That would disgust anyone with any sense of morality. Despite killing gangsters, Nick clearly had some morals since he was on my case about using Jonathan emotionally. If he knew…
"Maybe I talked about my period," I deadpanned.
She couldn't know my line of thinking. She couldn't know anything. Maybe I just needed to pretend to sleep until I got control of my brain again to protect myself.
"He was married, I doubt he's disgusted by periods," Faye pointed out. "Whatever. I was just curious what could've upset him so much."
I shrugged. Huh, that didn't hurt as much as before. Progress! "Could you check with the nurse to see when I can have my breakfast? I'm kind of hungry."
"Sure thing."
My head swirled with speculations about what I'd accidentally told Nick until Faye came back with the nurse, bearing a tray with a bowl of oatmeal and some Jell-O. I ate it as quickly as I could without getting sick and drank a glass of water.
Embarrassingly, the nurse had to help me get to the bathroom and stood guard outside when I insisted I could handle it alone. Pitiful that I'd been reduced to this. Lori Latham, who regularly flew across rooftops, couldn't walk twenty feet without help. I couldn't live like this. How long would it take to get better?
"Can you hand me the remote?" I asked once I was back in bed. "I want to watch something after you leave."
"Here. Sorry I couldn't stay longer, I need to work on my thesis. My first draft is due soon for my professor to give me time to revise." She waved on her way out the door.
Her thesis. I wanted to scream. I couldn't do anything about it being laid up like this. Had she made any progress? How long would it take before she connected our crimes to us?
I tried distracting myself by turning on the TV but it didn't really work. I made it through twenty minutes of the nature documentary before going back to sleep. Pathetic.