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halls.
    She pointed and turned to the nurse. "Did you see that? A cat just ran into that room."
    The nurse chuckled. "He's very fast, no?"
    "But...Shouldn't you call a security guard?" she sputtered. "To tie it up?"
    "If we tie up the cat, tomorrow you might see the rat he was chasing run into the room instead." A playful twinkle came to her black eyes and she wiggled her fingers in a scurrying motion across the top of the desk.
    A slow tremor crawled down Samantha's spine, and she shook her head in disbelief.
    The nurse's low, melodic laughter died and a shimmer of something close to defiance lit her eyes. "They will see Mr. Jordan as soon as they are able."
    "It's Dr. Jordan," Samantha corrected. "Dr. Joshua Jordan. He's here from the States, working at Madame Duval's orphanage. He should receive priority care."
    The nurse leveled her dark gaze at Samantha and pushed her ample form from the chair to face Samantha eye-to-eye. "He will be treated as all our patients are treated, with the utmost--"
    "I'm sorry," Samantha stuttered. She held up a hand in apology. "I didn't mean...Please forgive me. I...I'm just worried about Dr. Jordan. He is very ill."
    "We'll see to him, Miss." The nurse lumbered from behind her desk like a mother bear after a wayward cub. "You best relax for a while. The waiting room is that way." She pointed down the hall and stood, feet planted wide on the dingy white tiles, as though challenging Samantha to cross her again.

Chapter Five

    S amantha jerked to awareness, then groaned at the sharp twinge that crept down her back. She must have fallen asleep hunched on the narrow slatted bench in the hospital waiting room. She rubbed her eyes and looked at the clock on the far wall.
    One-thirty. Through a small, high window she saw that it was dark outside. It must be one-thirty in the morning. The flickering glow of a far-off neon light bounced off one wall. She stood and stretched, and tried in vain to tame her hair with her fingers as she hurried out to the nurses' station.
    There was no one at the desk. But the door to Josh's ward was open, so she tiptoed in. Soft snoring in several different pitches emanated from the shadowed forms in the beds beyond.
    "Hey. You're still here?" Josh's voice startled her.
    "Josh. You're awake." She went to his bedside and rested her arms on the rail. "How are you feeling?"
    "Not so hot."
    In the dim light she could barely make out his face, but his voice was hoarse and breathy. He fiddled with the IV tubing where it entered the back of his hand. "How's Kala doing?" Every word seemed a supreme effort.
    "I haven't seen her for a few hours, but she was already better when I looked in on her last night. Her color was good."
    "And her respiration?" he asked, ever the physician.
    "It was better. Much less labored."
    "Good." He let out a ragged sigh.
    "I'll go check on her again in a few minutes. Can I get you anything? Some water? Are you hungry? Madame Duval packed a cooler. I can get you something..."
    He waved her off with a barely perceptible shake of his head. "I need you to do something for me."
    "Okay."
    "Will you write something down for me? For my father."
    He must have sensed her startled hesitation because he reached out a hand and put it over hers on the bedrail. "Please, Samantha. I want to be sure he gets this."
    She didn't like the tone he was taking. "You can tell him yourself. You'll be back in Brizjanti in a couple days and you can call him. Maybe you can even reach him from here."
    "I don't know, Sam. I...I don't think I'm doing so hot."
    "What are you talking about, Josh? You're going to be okay. They've got you on an IV and--"
    "Samantha, please. I need to tell my dad some things."
    She nodded, stunned. "I'll get something to write on." She hurried back out to the nurses' station. She hated hearing him talk this way. He was a doctor. Did he sense that he was more gravely ill than they all thought? She found a pen and a small notepad advertising some