Symonds backed away from us, giving himself some space. “She can’t speak; she blinks. One for yes, two for no. It works, if we keep it simple.”

“Then that’s what I’ll do,” Marta said. “May I go up?”

His fierce expression told us he’d protect Stella at all costs. “Not without me and not without her,” he said, pointing to me. “Stella would be dead if she hadn’t been here.”

Marta shot me a look. She didn’t like to share. I shot her one back. At this point, I didn’t much care what she didn’t like.

“Then let’s go,” Marta said, following Symonds out.

We headed up to Stella’s room, no one speaking on the stairs; but with every step, I had the greedy feeling that Nick Spada was closer to being mine.

Chapter 39

Chapter 39

Stella’s eyes opened and quickly landed on me.

“You wanted to thank her,” Ron prompted. Stella blinked once.

I stepped closer to the bed. “It isn’t necessary.”

Ron turned to Marta. “Just five minutes.”

Marta stepped closer to the bed, held her star up so Stella could see it. “I’m Detective Marta Pena. I’d like to ask you about Nick Spada. Is that all right?”

Stella’s eyes locked on Marta’s. She blinked once. Stella’s body had turned on her, locking her inside a vessel that no longer served her. However, her mind was there, you could see it. She was still in the world. I watched as Marta took a moment to structure her questions in the limited time she had so that they could be answered by a blink of an eye. A strand of Marta’s black hair had come loose from her ponytail, and she took a moment to smooth it back before she started. “Do you remember Nick Spada coming to see you?”

One blink.

Marta appeared to struggle. I felt for her. This wasn’t normally how cops did things. I gripped the bed’s side rails. “Did he threaten you?”

One blink.

My heart nearly leapt out of my chest. A single tear slid down Stella’s cheek, her eyes imploring me to go on, to ask another question she could answer, the right question.

“Did he tell you he’d killed others? That he planned to kill you, too?”

One blink, then another. There was iron in her look, resolve. She couldn’t move her arms or legs, but she could think and she could hold out against Nick Spada, refuse to die. Marta and I exchanged a look. She hadn’t believed me before, but she believed Stella Symonds now.

“What about the nurse?” Marta asked. “Did she tell you Spada sent her?”