She knocked on the door. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“Oh, no, Dear, no,” said Marva, lifting her back up and resting on her elbows. “Please come in.”

After the craziness of her morning, with the mourning family in the ICU, and then Jasper, and his encounter with Dr. Wahl, Fiona was more than happy to slow things down with a nice relaxing visit with Marva. Not only would it be a nice break from the craziness so far, it would provide both women with a little bright spot in another otherwise dreary hospital day. Or so she hoped.

“I’ve got some good news for you,” said Fiona, flipping through the woman’s charts.

“What’s that? No more insulin injections?”

“No. That wouldn’t be good news,” said Fiona. “That would result in you being sick.”

“Some days I’d rather be sick.”

“No it’s better news than that.” Fiona held up a little cardboard box. “Can you guess what this is?”

“Oh, heavens,” Marva said, cocking her head in delight. “You brought me a box of chocolates.”

Fiona laughed as she opened the box. “No. It’s your fancy new insulin pump.”

Marva’s hand flew to her chest. “Oh! That thing?”

“Yep. You were approved for a trial.”

“The thing where I won’t have to get so many needles?”

Fiona was a little uncomfortable with how little Marva actually knew about it, how little she understood her illness—despite the constant education sessions—and how willing she was to try anything that would take away the needles. It seemed that she thought that’s what diabetes was, that it just meant she’d get stuck with needles constantly.

“Oh, yes, that thing. My thing.”

“It’s called an insulin pump,” Fiona explained for the hundredth time. “With continuous glucose monitoring.”

“Thank you so much, Fiona. I’ve been thinking about this thing, this pump, all week. I had dreams about it. I can’t tell you how much I hate getting pricked by that thing, and then getting all those needles.”

“Well, you’ll still get pricked,” said Fiona, un-boxing the small device. It smelled like new plastic and freshly sterilized packing materials. “But it will only be once or twice a day.” She broke and tore through a plastic bag that held everything together. It was packed well. There were little bits of tape that needed removing, and then more plastic. When she finished, she glanced back at Marva, expecting to see that big smile of hers.

But her face had twisted up into a slight grimace.

“Marva?”

She was crying.

“What’s wrong?”

Marva shook her head, sniffling.

“Tell me. What’s wrong?”

“I’m just so happy,” she said, her voice cracking.

Fiona frowned. “You don’t look so happy.”

“No, I am, I am.” She sniffled. “Thank you, Jesus.”

There was a part of Fiona—the increasingly bitchy part of her—which wanted to inform Marva that Jesus had nothing to do with it. That he played no role in her going through a bunch of bureaucratic red tape and bullshit just to get her name placed on a list.

“I really am happy,” said Marva. “I am.”

Somewhere in there, beyond the flushed and teary face and the glistening red eyes, was, perhaps, some amount of happiness. But it seemed to Fiona more of relief, or rather, the release of emotions that comes only after the passing of some primal fear-invoking event. It looked as if Marva had just been freed from her hostage taker, and finally, after the brave face, collapsing and melting into a puddle of emotion. The nightmare was over. The needles, for the most part, could go away.

“Do you want to start using this today? Or do you want me to—?”

“Yes!” she cried, sitting up. “Yes.” She started wiping the tears off her face. “Sorry, I’m just . . . I’m just getting . . .”

“Excited,” Fiona finished for her.

“Yes, excited.” She chuckled quietly. “I was going to say old, but yes. Could we begin today?”

Fiona gave her the crash course on how the device works and how to use it. But there really wasn’t much using to be done by Marva. The very point of the device was that it would do everything automatically. A live analysis of her blood sugar levels. Painless injections of glucose when needed. Everything done without her even having to watch a screen or push a button. And, knowing Marva, she probably wouldn’t even know what was happening or when it ever did.

One thing she definitely noticed was the initial pinch of the needle, thankfully the last Fiona had to give her that day. It had to be done, Fiona placing the device on Marva’s bare midsection and then pressing a button that made her flinch at the pain. But that was it. She was good to go for two, maybe three days before they’d have to replenish the pump and redo the infusion site.

“That hurt a little,” said Marva. “But it’ll be well worth it, I’m sure. No more for a while, right?”

“That’s right,” said Fiona as she helped Marva with her blankets. “Do you need anything else before I have to go?”

“Oh, no, Dear, you’ve already done so much for little old me. When I get out of here, and when I’m healthy enough, I’m gonna have to reward you with one of my legendary key lime pies, let me tell you.”

“Marva, you know what we said about those sweets.”

“No, no, it’s for you, Dear. I’m all done with that.” She smiled. “I promise I am.”

“I just want you to be happy and healthy. Okay, Marva? That’s all the reward I need.”

“Okay,” she said, settling back down into her bed, head on pillow. “Okay, I’ll try, Dear.”

* * *

Dr. Wahl had been waiting for her in the hallway. His usual sour expression had deteriorated into a nasty scowl. “We need to talk.”

“About what?”

He gestured with his head. “Come with me.”

As she followed him down the hall and then into an unoccupied room, she couldn’t help feel the growing sensation that she needed some help. Outside help. The union. Someone.

Jasper would help, certainly. She liked the way he had handled the jackass Dr. Wahl. She doubted if she could be as strong and persuasive.

“Fiona,” he said while staring out one of the hospital’s seventh-floor windows. “Would you mind telling me who that man really was?”

She had to make a decision on the spot, not whether or not she should lie, but to which degree of lying. She certainly couldn’t tell him they’d hooked up before in the past like two horny teenagers. But did she admit they were friends at all—which, actually, was untrue. She hadn’t heard a peep from Jasper in five years.

“I don’t know who he is,” she finally said. And it was the truth. Aside from knowing that he’d been a Green Beret in the Army, she hadn’t known a single thing of substance about him. Had he turned into an ax murderer? Possible. Had he moved on from Fiona and gotten married to a stunning blonde? Very possible.

Did he maybe still have feelings for her too, after all these years?

“So he’s just the IT guy, huh?”

“Yeah,” she said. “As far as I know.”

“What do you mean, as far as you know?”

She tried staring at him as hard as she could. Be brave. Be firm. “I don’t know what to say, Doctor. I don’t know any more than what I’ve told you.”

The doctor sighed and then started walking over to her. “I’m sorry. I know I’m being pushy.”

She actually hadn’t noticed. He was always like this. “It’s fine.”

“I’m just . . . I’ve been extra cautious lately. We’ve had a lot of technical problems, as you know. And that’s half the reason why we’ve been so hard on you. We’re just trying to assess what’s going on. Whether or not, you know, there’s someone . . . you know . . . someone from the inside . . .”

“So you thought I was sabotaging things?”

“Maybe not you. But, someone might be. That’s the problem. We don’t know a damn thing.” He walked past her and approached the doorway.

“Well, you can add me to the list of people who don’t have a clue,” Fiona said, watching him shut the door. After a loud thud, they were finally away from the noise of the busy hospital. Finally alone. It made her shudder.

“There’s something else,” said Dr. Wahl. “There’s also been rumors of . . . undercover evaluators. Have you heard this?”

“I heard some things about that. But you know, I’m just trying to stay focused.”

“I think I just caught one of the evaluators,” he said, nodding his head. There was almost a look of satisfaction on his face, like he’d accomplished some great task.

“Oh?”

“How do you feel about that? About the hospital sending in undercover spies like that?”

She shrugged, tried to mumble something.

“Because that’s what they are,” he said, raising his eyebrows. “Spies.”

“Yeah,” she said.

“Fuckin’ spies.” He started walking away with his head down and shaking side to side. “Can you believe it?”

She didn’t know what to believe.

“So, Fiona, come on. How do you feel about that? Huh? It’s dirty, isn’t it? A dirty trick?”

“I think so, yeah.”

“Yeah. It is.”

“So what do you think they’re watching for?” she asked. “These spies.”

“I’ll let you in on a little secret. The hospital’s losing money. Big time. And not only that, they’re losing funding. So there’s a storm brewing.”

Parts of what he said resonated with her. She had noticed a certain dark cloud that has seeped through the hallways, a heaviness that had settled upon the hospital in the past several months. There was a lot less smiling. A lot more griping. More worries.

“As a nurse, I’m sure you’ve picked up on that.”

She nodded.

“So on top of the money problems, they have a union problem.”

“Oh?” Fiona didn’t quite understand. Weren’t they supposed to have union problems?

“And I’ll be honest, Fiona, that’s why you’re still here.”

“What do you mean?” She hated having to play along for information. The way he strung her along with—

“They’d love to fire you.”

Fiona’s heart sank. It was one thing to suspect it, but being told this by one of the attending physicians was a rather tough pill to swallow.

“But don’t worry, they’d love to fire a lot of people.” He said this in a cheerful tone as if it was some solace for her. “They’d rather fire them, you know, before laying them off. Cut hours, cut people. How else are they going to recoup their losses?”

Fiona swallowed hard. “I had no idea . . .”

“Well, that’s just how it goes. They have to be able to pay the shareholders. So they’ve bussed in these spies to build strong cases for firing people. Nice, huh?”

“Yeah.” Fiona moved slowly toward the door. “Well, thanks.”

He laughed. “Thanks?”

She opened the door.

“Watch your back out there.”