“Run… its… course.” I murmured the words in a daze.
“Eat something,” Ian urged. “You’ll worry him if he sees you like this.”
I rubbed my eyes, trying to think straight.
Jamie was sick. There was nothing to treat him with here. No options but waiting to see if his body could heal itself. And if it couldn’t…
“No,” I gasped.
I felt as if I were standing on the edge of Walter’s grave again, listening to the sound of sand falling into the darkness.
“No,” I moaned, fighting against the memory.
I turned mechanically and started walking with stiff strides toward the exit.
“Wait,” Ian said, but he didn’t pull against the hand he still held. He kept pace with me.
Jeb caught up to me on the other side and shoved more food into my free hand.
“Eat for the kid’s sake,” he said.
I bit into it without tasting, chewed without thinking, swallowed without feeling the food go down.
“Knew she was gonna overreact,” Jeb grumbled.
“So why did you tell her?” Ian asked, frustrated.
Jeb didn’t answer. I wondered why he didn’t. Was this worse even than I imagined?
“Is he in the hospital?” I asked in an emotionless, inflectionless voice.
“No, no,” Ian assured me quickly. “He’s in your room.”
I didn’t even feel relief. Too numb for that.
I would have gone into that room again for Jamie, even if it was still reeking of blood.
I didn’t see the familiar caves I walked through. I barely noticed that it was day. I couldn’t meet the eyes of any of the humans who stopped to stare at me. I could only put one foot in front of the other until I finally reached the hallway.
There were a few people clustered in front of the seventh cave. The silk screen was pushed far aside, and they craned their necks to see into Jared’s room. They were all familiar, people I’d considered friends. Jamie’s friends, too. Why were they here? Was his condition so unstable that they needed to check on him often?
“Wanda,” someone said. Heidi. “Wanda’s here.”
“Let her through,” Wes said. He slapped Jeb on the back. “Good job.”
I walked through the little group without looking at them. They parted for me; I might have walked right into them if they hadn’t. I couldn’t concentrate on anything but moving myself forward.
It was bright in the high-ceilinged room. The room itself was not crowded. Doc or Jared had kept everyone out. I was vaguely aware of Jared, leaning against the far wall with his hands clasped behind him—a posture he assumed only when he was really worried. Doc knelt beside the big bed where Jamie lay, just where I had left him.
Why had I left him?
Jamie’s face was red and sweaty. The right leg of his jeans had been cut away, and the bandage was peeled back from his wound. It wasn’t as big as I’d expected. Not as horrible as I would have imagined. Just a two-inch gash with smooth edges. But the edges were a frightening shade of red, and the skin around the cut was swollen and shiny.
“Wanda,” Jamie exhaled when he saw me. “Oh, you’re okay. Oh.” He took a deep breath.
I stumbled and fell to my knees beside him, dragging Ian down with me. I touched Jamie’s face and felt the skin burn under my hand. My elbow brushed Doc’s, but I barely noticed. He scooted away, but I didn’t look to see what emotion was on his face, whether it was aversion or guilt.
“Jamie, baby, how are you?”
“Stupid,” he said, grinning. “Just plain stupid. Can you believe this?” He gestured to his leg. “Of all the luck.”
I found a wet rag on his pillow and wiped it across his forehead.
“You’re going to be fine,” I promised. I was surprised at how fierce my voice sounded.
“Of course. It’s nothing. But Jared wouldn’t let me come talk to you.” His face was suddenly anxious. “I heard about… and Wanda, you know I —”
“Shh. Don’t even think of it. If I’d had any idea you were sick I would have been here sooner.”
“I’m not really sick. Just a stupid infection. I’m glad you’re here, though. I hated not knowing how you were.”
I couldn’t swallow down the lump in my throat. Monster? My Jamie? Never.
“So I heard you schooled Wes the day we got back,” Jamie said, changing the subject with a wide grin. “Man, I wish I could have seen that! I bet Melanie loved it.”
“Yes, she did.”
“She okay? Not too worried?”
“Of course she’s worried,” I murmured, watching the cloth travel across his forehead as if it were someone else’s hand moving it.
Melanie.
Where was she?
I searched through my head for her familiar voice. There was nothing but silence. Why wasn’t she here? Jamie’s skin was burning where my fingers brushed it. The feel of it—that unwholesome heat—should have had her in the same panic I was feeling.
“You okay?” Jamie asked. “Wanda?”
“I’m… tired. Jamie, I’m sorry. I’m just… out of it.”
He eyed me carefully. “You don’t look so good.”
What had I done?