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had to speak.
    That was why Will Trent would not leave. He had been asking the victim about her condition in order to set up the framework for a dying declaration. The victim would have to know she was dying before her last words could be admitted in court as anything other than hearsay. Even now, Trent kept his back to the wall, listening to every word being spoken in the room, bearing witness in case he was needed to testify.
    Sara asked, “Ma’am? Can you tell me your name?” Sara paused as the woman’s mouth moved, but no words came out. “Just a first name, all right? Let’s start with something easy.”
    “Ah … ah …”
    “Anne?”
    “Nah … nah …”
    “Anna?”
    The woman closed her eyes, gave a slight nod. Her breath had turned more shallow from the effort.
    Sara tried, “How about a last name?”
    The woman did not respond.
    “All right, Anna. That’s fine. Just stay with me.” Sara glanced at Will Trent. He nodded his thanks. She returned to the patient, checking her pupils, pressing her fingers into the skull to check for fractures. “You’ve got some blood in your ears, Anna. You took a hard knock to your head.” Sara took a wet swab and brushed it across the woman’s face to remove some of the dried blood. “I know you’re still in there, Anna. Just hang on for me.”
    With care, Sara traced her fingers down the neck and shoulder, feeling the clavicle move. She continued down gently, checking the shoulders front and back, then the vertebrae. The woman was painfully undernourished, the bones starkly outlined, her skeleton on display. There were tears in the skin, as if barbs or hooks had been imbedded under the flesh, then ripped out. Superficial cuts sliced their way up and down the body, and the long incision on the breast already smelled septic; she had been like this for days.
    Mary said, “IV’s in, saline wide open.”
    Sara asked Will Trent, “See the doctors’ directory by the phone?” He nodded. “Page Phil Sanderson. Tell him we need him down here immediately.”
    He hesitated. “I’ll go find him.”
    Mary supplied, “It’s faster to page him. Extension 392.” She taped a loop from the IV to the back of the woman’s hand, asking Sara, “You want more morphine on board?”
    “Let’s figure out what’s going on with her first.” Sara tried to examine the woman’s torso, not wanting to move the body until she knew exactly what she was dealing with. There was a gaping hole in her left side between the eleventh and twelfth ribs, which would explain why the woman had screamed when they tried to straightenher out. The stretching and grinding of torn muscle and cartilage would have been excruciating.
    The EMT had put a compression pack on her right leg and arm along with two pneumatic splints to keep the limbs stabilized. Sara lifted the sterile dressing on the leg, seeing bright bone. The pelvis felt unstable beneath her hands. These were recent wounds. The car must have hit Anna from the right side, folding her in two.
    Sara took a pair of scissors out of her pocket and cut through the tape that kept the woman immobile on the gurney, explaining, “Anna, I’m going to roll you onto your back.” She braced the woman’s neck and shoulders while Mary took care of the pelvis and legs. “We’ll keep your legs bent, but we need to—”
    “No-no-no!” the woman pleaded. “Please don’t! Please don’t!” They kept moving and her mouth opened wide, her screams sending a chill up Sara’s spine. She had never heard anything more horrific in her life. “No!” the woman yelled, her voice catching. “No! Please!
Noooo!
”
    She started to violently convulse. Instantly, Sara leaned over the stretcher, pinning Anna’s body to the table so she wouldn’t fall onto the floor. She could hear the woman grunt with each convulsion, as every movement brought a knife of pain to her side. “Five milligrams of Ativan,” she ordered, hoping to control the seizures. “Stay