Marge opened her eyes, felt tubes running through her nose, things plastered onto her head. She was hooked up to machines, one of them beeping. Everything was out of focus.

But a wonderful familiar voice said, “What some people won’t do to get a day off.”

Marge didn’t answer. Her head throbbed, her eyes held flashes of blinding light. Pete sounded like an echo. She lay back on her pillow and mumbled, “What do…I look like?”

“Beautiful,” Decker said.

“Liar.”

“You look alive. That’s the only way you need to look right now.”

“Feel like shit.”

“I don’t doubt that you do,” Decker said. “You need anything? Something for the pain?”

Marge muttered no. She realized Decker was holding her hand, clasping it with both of his hands. God, for him to do that, she must look like death warmed over. She tried to zero in on his face. Two Deckers. Both of them looking worried as hell. Gotta reassure him, she thought. She croaked out, “Benko give you…my message…about Pappy D?”

Decker sighed. “Yes, he did. It’s all taken care of. Forget about work.”

A hammer was banging in her head. “Pete…Sue Beth sounded…hinky.”

“Shhhh.”

“Know…what I mean?”

Decker looked at her with newfound admiration, The woman doesn’t give up. Like him. “You want me to ask Sue Beth if she remembers seeing her mother and brother at the convention when she arrived?”

Marge nodded. “Press her…Pappy D…when you do the interview.”

Decker said yes, then discreetly pressed the nurse call button. But Marge caught it.

“Look that bad?”

“A little pale, that’s all,” Decker said.

A young Filipino nurse came in a moment later, studied her EEG readouts. “She okay,” she announced to Decker.

“Sure, I’m…fine,” Marge said. If a thousand hot pokers impaling your eyes meant fine, she was fine.

“You need something for the pain, Margie?”

The nurse said, “She not due for another dose until—”

“I don’t give a fuck when she’s due!” Decker exploded. “She’s in pain! Get her out of pain, for chrissakes!”

Marge gave him a lopsided smile. She whispered, “Go…talk…Pappy D. Get out…my face.”

The nurse smiled. “You heard her! Out!”

“Go.” Marge gave Decker a light slap. “Now.”

Decker didn’t move.

“Go…please,” Marge said.

Decker stood up. He said, “I’ll be back in an hour, Marjorie. Like it or not.”

Marge whispered, “Sure.”

He left. She was glad. She didn’t want him to see her cry.

Hollander grabbed Decker as soon as he stepped into the squad room.

“First, how is she?” Hollander asked.