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She’d had an accident? She couldn’t remember.
But when she tried to reach for a call button, she found herself strapped down. And panic bubbled up her throat.
She tried to shout, but the single word—“Help!”—came out in a croak. As she turned her head from side to side, she saw a woman rise from a chair. She wore scrubs with kittens playing over them, and that eased some of the panic.
Her smile struck reassuring in a round face topped by curly brown hair.
“Here you go!” The woman picked up a cup with a bendy straw. “Sip some. You’re thirsty and light-headed, but everything’s fine.”
“What happened?”
“What was meant to.” She gave Janet’s head a light pat. “Everything that happens now was meant.”
“Where am I? Drake—”
“Where you’re meant to be, Janet. Don’t worry about a thing! We’re going to take care of you.”
“Did I have an accident?”
The woman had blue eyes, so pale, so clear, so calm.
“Nothing’s really accidental, is it, Janet? The Almighty has a plan for all creatures, and all His creations are precious. I’m Nurse Clara, and I’m here for you.”
“My husband, I want to see my husband. Is Drake here? He must be worried.”
“Mm-hmm.”
Studying one of the monitors, Clara nodded, then took out her phone, sent a text.
“Why am I strapped down? I need to… I was going to the store for butter. Thanksgiving. Oh, I left everything out on the counter! I need to—”
She broke off when a man opened the door. He, too, wore scrubs, plain blue. But she saw his face, remembered his face.
Now panic spurted.
“The parking lot. The van. This isn’t the hospital.” Terrified now, she strained against the straps. “Who are you? What’s happening?”
“Now, now, I understand the urge to struggle, but it won’t help. We’ve secured you for your own protection. This is Nurse Sam,” Clara continued as Janet fought against the straps, and the man set up a tripod and camera. “We’re here for you, Janet. We’re here to help you.”
“Let me go. I want to go home! I want Drake.” Tears rained as she fought. “You can’t keep me here.”
“Letting you go is why we’re here. Try to stay calm. Now take some deep breaths. We don’t want to sedate you again, Janet.”
With that reassuring smile in place, with blue eyes calm and clear, Clara picked up a syringe.
“No, no, no, no! Don’t! Please.”
“It’s up to you, Janet. We’re given choices in this life, we have the gift of free will.”
“What do you want? We—we have some money. Drake would pay. My parents would. We have some.”
Insult, sincere and strong, flashed over Clara’s face. “Oh, what a terrible thing to say! No one dedicates their lives to others for money. The poor thing, Sam, thinks we’re holding her for ransom.”
He just shook his head. “Too many people think it’s always about money.”
But when he looked at Janet, she felt a chill run through her. His eyes, not calm and clear, held some hungry secret. A light-skinned Black man, he didn’t smile.
Where the woman edged toward plump, he was lean. He wore his hair in short, neat twists. She tried to judge his height—details to tell the police. Not really tall. Five-eight or nine. Or ten?