Dr. Alvarez lifts my wrist to take my pulse, clips a small device to my finger, and sticks a thermometer in my mouth. It’s all finished and recorded on her clipboard within a minute, maybe two. Then she puts a hand on my arm. Kindness and concern, and again that hint of outrage on my behalf, that’s all I feel. I cannot be sure yet whether or not I can completely trust Dr. Alvarez, but God knows I want to.

“Your vitals are good,” she says with a reserved smile. “Now let me try to find out about your friend. My supervisor, Dr. Haddox, will be in to explain things to you.”

“I just—I want to go home. I wasn’t going to jump. I’m okay, truly. I swear.” I sound desperate. Like I am lying. Maybe I should keep my mouth shut.

I feel sorrow rise in her chest as she looks at me. “I want to help if I can.” She nods, but she has her doubts. I’m not sure if they are about me or her own ability. “What’s your friend’s full name?”

“Jasper Salt.”

“Okay,” she says as she steps toward the door. “Let me see what I can do.”

I WAIT UNTIL Dr. Alvarez is gone before I get out of bed. I spot my flip-flops lined up against the far wall; the only personal belonging of mine anywhere in sight. My phone is what I really want. I need to call my dad. At a minimum, he can get Dr. Shepard to call and vouch for me. I have no idea what time it is, but hopefully he’s not on that plane to DC yet.

I don’t see my phone anywhere. I get out of bed, hoping it might be stashed somewhere in a drawer. It isn’t until my feet are on the floor that I look down and notice that I have a gray sweat suit on. I feel embarrassed and exposed thinking of my clothes being changed while I was passed out. Worse yet is the sense that they’ve already readied me for a longer stay.

Now, my heart is wide awake, pumping faster than it should be.

I make my way around the room, opening and closing the smooth, brand-new drawers, checking the closet, too. All empty. All immaculately clean. There’s nothing in the gleaming, white tile bathroom either except a little set of travel-sized toiletries. Not a set of manicure scissors or tweezers in sight. Nothing sharp. And definitely no phone.