Lynell looks back to the nurse, who gives her a forced smile.

“I’m sorry about that, darling. I’m Nurse Carolyn. How are you feeling?”

Lynell swallows, winces, and says, “Not great.”

Carolyn grimaces in sympathy and nods. “I’ll increase the morphine. Do you know what happened?”

Lynell starts to shake her head but then nods. “Hayes and—”

Carolyn cuts her off. “Yes. Your friend,” she says and turns so her back is to Hayes, “and another one, bigger and meaner, brought you in this morning. You were in quite a shape, but they didn’t seem to want to answer any questions. Darling, are you okay? Are you safe? They gave us your name, but we couldn’t find a Lynell Elysian in the system.” The last sentence is quiet, like she’s terrified of questioning Lynell’s identity or doubting she’s one of those Elysians.

Of course, they’re concerned.

“Mize,” Lynell says. “I’m in the system as Lynell Mize.”

Carolyn looks up at the doctor, and Lynell turns her head to watch him nod and start typing on his tablet. Not even a minute passes before he frowns, and his eyes widen. He looks up at the nurse, obviously at a loss for how to move forward with whatever information he just found out.

“I never figured it out,” Lynell says, making both of them snap their attention to her. “How many people Registered me?”

The doctor clears his throat and shifts on his feet before saying, “Eleven.”

Lynell’s eyebrows raise and she chuckles, which causes her throat to burn. “What time is it?” she asks.

“Ten to five,” she says.

“So, seven more hours?” Lynell whistles and straightens her neck, looking at the ceiling. “Never thought I’d make it.”

The silence stretching between them is uncomfortable. Lynell can feel the nurse and Dr. Springers dying to ask if she’s really who she says she is. And if so, how she could be Registered and how she managed to stay alive these past two weeks.

“No one is going to come for me,” Lynell says, shattering the silence.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Mize,” Carolyn starts.

“Actually,” Lynell begins, looking at the nurse again, “please call me Mrs. Carter.”

“Carter?” Carolyn says. Her eyebrows pull together, and she frowns, exchanging a glance with Dr. Springers. Lynell catches sight of Hayes shifting his weight behind them.

“Elysian by birth. Mize by law. Carter by choice,” Lynell says, avoiding the nurse’s gaze, instead training her eyes to her hand that plays with the soft cream blanket draped on top of her.

“By marriage?” Carolyn asks. Lynell nods.

“What’s his name?”

“His name was Daniel,” Lynell says. “Daniel Carter.”

Lynell suddenly regrets her decision to ask them to call her Mrs. Carter. Thinking about Daniel, saying his name, feels like every part of her body is being slammed with a hammer.

“Um,” Carolyn starts. Lynell looks up at her, ready to ask her to leave, when she stops at the nurse’s expression. “Your husband is . . .”