Someone else has come to see her. She needs to get away, but she’s held back, as if the fluid in which she is suspended is more viscous than water. Looking down at her arms she can see she’s constrained by straps, like seat belts, and suddenly she’s moving forward quickly, then tumbling down, falling and falling through the bottom of the world. Somehow, she knows that if only she could open her eyes, she’d be okay. But it’s so hard to do, so hard. . . .

—

“Pia?”

Pia sensed she was in the hospital, and felt more conscious of her surroundings than she had in a long time. There was discomfort, even pain. She tried to move but she couldn’t, at least not her arms. She knew time had passed, but where had she been? Someone was with her in her room. She was aware that people had been coming to see her, and had been comforted by their familiar voices. George. George had been one of them. And her new friend Paul. Pia’s head throbbed, and she knew she was drugged, and there was a dull ache in several parts of her body. But still, she should be able to recognize this new visitor. Then she realized she had yet to open her eyes, so she did.

“Pia? Are you awake? They said you were more awake now than you have been.”

She did feel more awake, the man was right. But who was he? She studied his face.

“Pia. Maybe I should leave you to sleep.”

Suddenly, Pia knew who it was.

“Pia, it’s me, Zach. I wanted to see you before I left. I have to go on a trip, but I will be back.” Berman studied Pia’s face and glanced down at the curves of her body beneath the white bedsheet. She was as alluring as he had remembered, maybe even more so despite the sterile hospital environment. He wanted her. He wanted to own her, to tame her, to control her. She had teased him mercilessly, and it had worked: he was beguiled, enthralled, even bewitched, and he loved it. Screw Whitney and Mariel and their petty jealousies. Berman was going to make it happen. The fact that Pia had survived was an omen he was committed to exploit.

Pia was going to try to speak, but before she could form words, she became dimly aware that another person had entered her room. This time she recognized the voice at once.

“Excuse me, may I ask who you are?” said Paul Caldwell, firmly. “This patient has restricted visiting status.”