Chapter 22

But, this place didn’t smell like a hospital or a hospice. God, not a hospice.She had awakened only to die! Fat tears began to roll down her cheeks.

Wait, Anya, she told herself sternly. That underlying buzz is not medical equipment. You know what medical equipment sounds like.

She took a mental inventory of her body.

There are no IV lines, no tubes; she briefly remembered drinking through a straw and a beautifully designed tumbler.

This cannot be a hospice or a hospital.

Anya banked her emotional responses, making a deliberate effort to deal with the facts her senses had presented. With eyes still closed Anya inhaled deeply. What was that, a regular rhythm in and out, the even breath of sleep?

Beyond that, Anya listened. Was itrunning water?