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head. So far, he hadn’t reached for his dagger.
    “Do you get any visitors?” he asked.
    She shook her head. “If someone knew I was here they would’ve told the hospital my name isn’t Jane Doe.” Pru gestured at the patient chart hanging at the end of the bed and he picked it up. “Mom and Tía Adoria would’ve moved me, or at least visited.”
    A pulse jumped in his forehead as he studied the chart. “You’ve been here for a week. How did you end up here?”
    Pru sat on the bed, facing him. “You seem too interested in me. Are you going to wait until I’m gone and then return to stab me?”
    Without lifting his head, he said, “Again, what stops me from doing that right now? I’m just curious. You don’t have to answer any of my questions.”
    Luke returned the chart and turned to the door.
    He was Pru’s only means of communication with someone else. She was getting sick of her one-sided conversations. “I was on my way to a concert with some friends when the accident happened, I lost consciousness, and woke up on doctors trying to revive me.” She swallowed, remembering those frightful moments. “Initially-initially I thought I was dead and my soul is floating out of my body until I noticed the doctors hooking me up to all kinds of devices including a heart monitor. The machine was peeping, I was alive, but not together with myself.”
    A small smile flashed on Luke’s lips then disappeared. Pru wished they could be friends again, she’d even try to disregard his questionable sanity. He would possess the unequivocal title of her best and only friend, considering the circumstances.
    “I was in the intensive care unit for few days when I stumbled on doctors discussing what to do with me. I was lucky Mrs. Lancaster was here that day and she offered to take care of my expenses until they find out who I am and contact my family.”
    One black eyebrow arched. “Mrs. Lancaster?”
    Pru made a gesture with her hand as though to dismiss the matter. “She’s a rich old lady who does charity work wherever she goes. She’s involved in all causes related to women’s independence and safety. A charity case like mine fitted in her agenda and I got my own room.”
    Lifting the chart again, he asked, “What happened to your friends?”
    “I hope they survived. As far as I know, they might be here somewhere as well. If they were conscious, they would’ve cleared the matter about my identity.”
    “I don’t understand. Weren’t they hurt in the accident?”
    “We were in two cars. I was alone in mine.”
    He lifted his gaze to her. “Were they drinking?”
    “Yes.”
    Luke eyed her fisted hands on her waist. Noticing her defensive posture, Pru relaxed her fists and let them dangle by her side.
    “I think,” he said, “either they saw what happened and chose not to get involved to avoid getting DUIed or they were hurt in that accident and lay unconscious or dead somewhere around here.”
    Pru remained silent. She had been through the hospital and there was no trace of her friends.
    “Still, that doesn’t explain how the hospital has nothing to identify you with. No driving license, credit cards, car registration card…anything.”
    Actually, she thought about the same thing by her third roaming day. Pru didn’t like the direction this conversation was taking. “Anyway, so this is my life story. What about you?”
    Luke narrowed his eyes. “What do you want to know?”
    She tabbed her chin with a finger. “How come you’re all alone?”
    One shoulder lifted in a halfhearted shrug. “I’m not.”
    “Come on, I’ve been following you around. Beside the occasional mumbles to your imaginary counselor, talking to me was the only real conversation you had.”
    His fingers flipped pages while his gaze ran silently over the details of her chart.
    “So,” she said to have some noise in the room beside the peeps from the machines. “What are we going to do now?”
    “ We are going to do