“You’re taller than I am,” Isabelle whispered. “You try.”

Alexis stretched and peeked at the screen. “I can’t see it, either.”

“Watch it. Here she comes.” Isabelle had spotted the woman through the blinds on the window of the office. They settled back into their normal stances.

“I am going to have to call her sister to get permission. Mrs. Brewster never has visitors except for when her sister comes every couple of weeks.” Jeanne picked up the phone and began dialing the number on the computer.

“Sure.”

“Of course.”

Marjorie Brewster’s sister wouldn’t know who they were, so things could go either way: she would say yes or no depending on how she felt about her sister having visitors.

“Hello? This is Jeanne from Mountain Hills Nursing Home.” A pause, then, “No. Everything is fine. There are two women here who were her students, and they wanted to see Marjorie.” She listened for a response and looked at the women. “Yes, I explained her condition to them.” Another pause. “Oh. Okay. Yes, I will. Thank you.” She hung up and repeated what she was told. “You can go in. Perhaps talk to her a bit. They say that people in comas can hear you. I don’t know if that’s true, but I suppose it can’t do any harm. I have heard some stories myself, working here these many years. You should see some of the people who have had skiing accidents. I used to ski a lot, but now it’s tennis whenever I get a chance. But working here . . . Well, the hours aren’t terrible, but sometimes the shifts are not conducive to outdoor activity.” Jeanne had become more animated, which made her look like a worn-out talking baseball glove.

Alexis gave Isabelle a slight kick, knowing they were both thinking the same thing. Batter up!

Trying to get the situation moving forward, Isabelle politely said, “Thank you very much, Jeanne. Can you direct us to her room, please?”

“Oh, of course. I tend to ramble a lot. All the way down at the end of the hall.” She pointed in the direction of the room.

Isabelle and Alexis tried to maintain their composure. They took deep breaths and slowly moved toward Marjorie Brewster’s room.

“This feels a little creepy,” Alexis confessed. “It’s like we’re intruding.”

“I know it feels that way, but we need to do this so we can report back to Myra and Annie.”

“What about the sister? Should someone contact her?” Alexis queried.

“Once we get the info from the hospital, and depending on what we find at the end of this hallway, we’ll send everything to Myra and Annie. There is a lot of information for them to evaluate, with more coming. I know they’ll have a plan as soon as they have the whole picture.”

“Okay. Here’s her room.” Alexis pointed at the name plaque next to the door.