“Probably?” Archie said. A coughing fit overcame him, and Archie buried his face in his elbow. When it was over he looked back up, his face hot, eyes watering. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, he could feel the full weight of his exhaustion.

Fergus took his reading glasses off and wiped them with the corner of his white lab coat. “You’ve got bacterial pneumonia,” he said. “Early stages, yet. But given your general condition, it’s not unserious. If you were anyone else, I tell you to stay in bed at home for a few days, but I know you’d ignore me, so I won’t waste my breath.”

He opened a cabinet drawer, pulled out a white surgical mask, and held it out to Archie.

“Is that really necessary?” Archie asked.

“When you’re around sick people, yes. The pneumonia’s not contagious, but the bacteria that’s causing it is. You’re in a hospital filled with people with compromised immune systems, much like yours. Let’s try not to infect all the nice cancer babies, shall we?”

Archie took the mask. “I’ve seen Detective Sobol since I’ve been sick,” he said.

“I think catching your cold is the least of his problems right now,” Fergus said. He leaned forward over his sharp knees and tapped the prescription in Archie’s hand. “Now, get this filled right away, at the pharmacy in the atrium.”

“Thanks again,” Archie said, standing up.

Before he could get out the door, Fergus stopped him. His gruff-doctor demeanor softened. “I’m sorry to hear about the detective you lost tonight,” he said.

“Yeah.”

Fergus swung back to the monitor. “Do us both a favor,” he said. “If you find that you are unable to breathe, or start coughing up more blood, give me a call. And in the meantime don’t jump into any more rivers.”

“I keep forgetting not to do that,” Archie said. He put on his mask and went out the door.

Ngyun was leaning up against the hallway wall waiting for him.

Archie stopped, flustered. He had consoled the family and friends of dozens of victims. Now the words felt cheap. Heil was dead. Archie had been his boss. But Ngyun and Flannigan? They had worked with Heil. Day after day, for over a year. “It was quick,” Archie said.

Ngyun nodded and looked at a spot next to Archie’s head. Then he reached out and offered something he held in his hand. “I thought you might need this.”

It was a cell phone.

“It’s a loaner from the office,” Ngyun said. “I had your number forwarded. They said it’ll take a few hours.”

Archie took the phone. “Thanks,” he said.

“Do you need me to do anything?” Ngyun asked.

Flannigan was home with his family. Dry and warm in his bed.

“Go home,” Archie said.