“I’m really sorry,” I say again.
“You know, some guys will put on clean clothes for a girl,” Erin says. “And shave.”
I touch the stubble on my chin and try to recall the last time I took a razor to my face.
“Sorry,” I say again.
Although I’m beginning to realize I’m not all that sorry. I couldn’t care less about Erin. She’s pretty, yeah. But so what? There are thousands of pretty girls out there.
And anyway, she’s got nothing on Sasha. I still can’t believe I blew that.
I wouldn’t have been surprised if Erin had gotten up and walked out on me. But instead, she leans forward and crosses her arms.
“So how was your big exam?”
I struggle to come up with an answer to her question. The anatomy exam was two days ago, and I’m only slightly distressed by the fact that I barely remember it. It doesn’t seem important anymore. My life isin danger. Doesn’t she get that?
No, I guess she doesn’t.
As Erin babbles about something or other, my mind wanders. I can’t help but think that Frank is the key to all of this. Frank was a cop, and I bet he knew something. He must have been investigating the drug sales, and he figured out what’s going on. That’s why Conlon had him killed. And Conlon is willing to get rid of anyone who’s on the verge of figuring out his secret. And now, that includes me.
“Who’s Frank?” Erin asks.
I stare at her. “What?”
“You just said something about ‘the case Frank was investigating,’” she says.
I hadn’t realized I had spoken out loud. Wow, that’s a little scary.
“What are you talking about?” she asks.
“Believe me, you don’t want to know.”
Erin is giving me a strange look. “Are you okay?”
Okay? No, I’m not okay! My anatomy professor is a drug dealer and a murderer, and I’m probably next on his hit list.
She squints at me. “You look like you’re ondrugs.”
“On drugs?” I repeat. “You have no idea how far off you are.”
But the weird thing is that as she says it, I start to wonder. My thoughts have been racing lately in a way that they never have before. And Conlon clearly has access to an arsenal of substances. What if he’s been slipping me something? I’m not sure how he’d do it, but I’ve eaten plenty of meals in the hospital cafeteria. I’m sure he could pay someone off to get access to my food.
“If you’re going to talk nonsense, I’m leaving,” she says. She punctuates her statement by standing up.
I look up at her as she stands there for a moment, her arms folded across her chest. I could stop her. I could maybesay something charming, and she might agree to stay and have lunch.
But instead, I just let her leave.
70
It’sthree in the morning.
I stumble to the bathroom, intending to just splash some water on my face. But when I see my reflection in the mirror, I’m a little shocked by how bloodshot my eyes are. I guess it shouldn’t be such a surprise, though—my vision has gotten blurry in the last hour.
I stumble back to my bed and stare at the screen of my laptop. I’ve been scouring the internet obituaries for anyone who seems like they could have been Frank. So far, it’s not going that well. A lot of people have died lately, believe it or not. But I can’t give up.
My eyes drift shut. I want to sleep so badly, but every time my head hits the pillow, my heart begins to pound, and my thoughts race. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me. Maybe Conlon really is slipping me something.
