“I’m here to see a friend,” April said, handing the clipboard back to her. “Dr. Winter?”

April got his room number and dashed toward the elevators. She stepped inside, finding herself between two rather handsome doctors.

“Did someone help you already?” one of them asked as the doors closed.

“Yes,” April said. “I’m fine.”

“Are you hurt?” the other doctor asked, pointing to the blood-spattered cup in her hands.

“It’s . . . um . . . a cherry Slurpee,” she said. “I spilled a little.”

The doors opened and she raced out, leaving the confused doctors behind. It only took her a few moments to find Dr. Winter’s door. She pushed it open and was relieved to see that he was lying behind a curtain, giving her an opportunity to place the Gutenberg under a chair by the door.

“Dr. Winter?” she called out.

“Yes?” a voice said.

An electric shiver ran up April’s spine. There was no mistaking the rich baritone of Dr. Winter’s voice, however weakened it was. She wanted to turn and run out the door, but Charlie’s life was at stake. Maybe her mother’s too.

“Are you okay?” April asked. It was a stupid question, thoughtless. Of course he wasn’t okay. He was missing a hand.

“April, is that you?”

“Yes,” she answered, tiptoeing forward. She walked around the edge of the curtain, not quite knowing what she would find. She gasped. Dr. Winter was sitting up in bed, bathed in bandages, which covered his right arm, his midsection, and his eyes.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Dr. Winter said. “I thought that maybe they got you too.”

“Who?”

“The Order of the Dragon.”

“I thought you were one of them,” she said.

Dr. Winter laughed, then winced, grabbing at his ribs. “No,” he said. “I would never enter the ranks of such vileness.”

“Then are you an Orphan?”

“How do you know about the Orphans?”

“I was kidnapped by some men who thought I was one.”

“I’m sorry about that,” Dr. Winter said. “They didn’t take your hand too, did they?”

“No.”

“Well, that’s good.”

“The pain must be unbearable.”

“It was. But the good doctors have kept me very happy,” he said, motioning to the IV beside him. “Can you do something for me?”

“Sure.”

“Take the bandages off my face.”

April reached toward the bandages, stopping just before her fingers took hold. “Did they take your eyes too?” She hated to ask, but some of the security measures at the library required an eye scan.

“They were kind to me in that regard,” he said.

She removed the bandages and gasped again.

“They only took one,” Dr. Winter said. He closed his left eyelid over his empty socket. He glanced down and saw that April was holding a large Styrofoam cup. “What’s that?”

“Your hand,” she said, backing away. “I put it on some ice. You could still have it reattached.”