Page 1

Chapter

One

Mandy stared at the industrial ceiling tiles above her head, counting the tiny holes for the hundredth time. A tear slid down her cheek and onto the thin mattress beneath her. She quickly wiped her face dry, though here in the busy ER of Tucson Medical Center, lying on a gurney against the wall, no one was likely to notice anyway.

The thin mattress of the gurney might as well have been concrete. Each breath sent daggers of agony shooting through her lower back. Her spine was screaming at her, urging her to find a new position. Being on her side would have been marginally more comfortable, but the struggle to shift position at this point was unthinkable.

Another tear escaped down her cheek. She wiped it away, refusing to give in to self-pity.

A pair of nurses rushed past, deep in conversation about a cardiac patient in one of the cubicles. Their shoes squeaked against the linoleum floor. Neither spared her a glance. Mandy hadn't even rated a cubicle; instead, the gurney she'd been transferred to by the EMT's who'd brought her in was shoved against a wall in the wide hallway.

She tilted up her phone, being careful not to jar her back. Four hours. She closed her eyes in despair, letting the phone drop back down. 'New record,' she whispered to herself.

She understood, rationally, why back pain ranked low on the triage scale. No one died from a bad back. The ambulance crew had apologized profusely when they'd had to move her, their gentle hands doing little to prevent the screaming agony of transfer. But they'd gotten her here. And here she lay, invisible.

A young doctor strode past, his white coat fluttering. Mandy opened her mouth to call out, but closed it again. What would she say? 'Excuse me, I know you're probably heading to save someone's life, but my back really hurts?'

The ceiling tiles blurred as fresh tears welled up. Four hours of listening to the chaos around her, trying not to move a single muscle as she prayed someone would come. Five minutes, that's all it would take. Five minutes for a doctor to announce that she had back pain and to order a shot that would take it away.

"Hey Martha, we'll get to you soon." A nurse paused by her gurney, looked at her chart, then hurried off.

"It's Mandy, actually," she murmured to the empty air. Not that anyone had bothered to care. The identification bracelet on her wrist proclaimed 'DUPONT, AMANDA' in bold letters, but she might as well have been invisible. That same nurse had already been by to check on her several times.

She closed her eyes, trying to find a mental escape from the pain. Usually, she could lose herself in plotting her next story or imagining fantastic worlds. But the constant throbbing in her spine consumed every thought, every breath.

A rattling crash echoed from somewhere nearby, followed by raised voices. More running feet. More squeaking shoes on linoleum. The drama of the emergency room played on around her little bubble of isolation.

The tears she'd been fighting broke free, trailing down into her hair. This time, she didn't bother wiping them away.

A soft voice spoke from nearby. "How long have you been here?"

The lilting alto carried a hint of an accent - Middle Eastern, perhaps? - and held genuine concern. Mandy quickly scrubbed at her face with trembling fingers, hoping to erase the evidence of tears before turning her head with careful movements to look at the speaker.

A petite young woman stood beside her gurney, definitely not hospital staff given her flowing silk tunic and fitted pants. Long, curling black hair cascaded past her shoulders, and warm brown eyes regarded Mandy with sympathy.

"Four hours." Mandy's voice came out scratchy from the dryness in her throat. A nurse had given her a bottle of water shortly after she had arrived, but that was long gone.

"Four hours?" The woman's perfectly shaped eyebrows drew together. "And no one has helped you?"

"It's a busy day. There's lots people worse off than me." Mandy tried to shrug, but the movement sent lightning bolts of pain down her spine. She sucked in a sharp breath, squeezing her eyes shut. Attempting a weak chuckle, she said, "It's probably a full moon or something."

"Actually, it is." The woman's smile widened, revealing perfect white teeth. "But that should not make a difference. Because some are worse off, does not mean your pain does not matter."

Something in the woman's voice, the way she emphasized those words, made Mandy's skin prickle. The fluorescent lights above seemed to flicker, though no one else appeared to notice.

"I'm used to it." Mandy shifted her gaze back to the ceiling tiles. "I’ve dealt with chronic pain for years. This morning is just... worse than usual." Her voice quivered, and she stopped trying to talk.

"Chronic pain?" The woman leaned closer, her silk tunic rustling. A scent like desert winds and exotic spices wafted around her. "What kind?"

"Spinal stenosis in my lumbar spine. And arthritis in my knees." The words came out automatically - she'd repeated them so many times to doctors over the years. "Usually I can manage at home without meds, but this morning..." She swallowed hard, remembering the moment she'd realized she couldn't rise from her bed when she'd woken in agony that morning.

"You could not move." The woman's voice held such understanding that fresh tears threatened.

"I had my phone within reach. I always do, just for this reason." Mandy blinked rapidly to hold them at bay. "I called 911, and they sent an ambulance to bring me here. They'll get me a shot of something, probably Demerol, and send me home."

Her gaze fixed on the stranger's delicate fingers resting on the bed rail, noticing how the elaborate golden rings she wore, with their multicolor gemstones, sparkled beneath the harsh glare of the ceiling's fluorescent bulbs.

"But now you lie here, forgotten." The woman's voice held a note of steel beneath its musical quality.

"It's not like they're forgetting me on purpose." Mandy felt compelled to defend the hospital staff, even as another wave of pain radiated through her lower back. "There was a traffic accident… and someone was brought in with gunshot wounds not long ago. And I heard something about a cardiac patient..."

"You are kind to think of others while in such pain yourself." The woman's rings clinked softly against the metal railing. "But that does not make your suffering less important."

Mandy managed a smile for the woman. "They'll get to me eventually. Once they do, it won't take long for the shot to take effect, and I can go home."

"What is your name?"

"Oh, I'm so sorry." Guilt flooded her at her own lack of manners. This woman… a stranger… had taken the time to stop, to recognize that she was in pain, and Mandy hadn't even introduced herself.

"I'm Mandy."

"It's nice to meet you, Mandy." The woman's soft lips curved into a gentle smile. "Though I wish it were under better circumstances. My name is Jacinth."

"Jacinth?" Momentarily distracted from her pain, Mandy smiled. "What a beautiful name. I've never heard it before."

The woman's smile brightened the stark hospital hallway, radiating a warmth which seemed to soften the harsh fluorescent lighting and sterile white walls. "Thank you. In Persian, it means hyacinth - the flower."

"Persian?" Despite her discomfort, Mandy's writer's brain perked up. "That explains your accent. Though it's very slight."

"You have a good ear. Most people don't notice."

"I used to sing." Mandy winced as another spasm hit her lower back. "Classical training makes you sensitive to vocal nuances."

"Used to?"

"I can't stand up long enough anymore." The admission hurt almost as much as her back. "And breath control is out of reach, when you can't take a deep breath lots of times. But that's ancient history."

Jacinth chuckled. "You're not old enough to have ancient history."

Mandy managed a weak laugh, though it caught in her throat as pain stabbed through her spine. "Oh, I'm plenty old enough. I'm sixty-seven."

"Sixty-seven?" Jacinth's musical voice held a note of amusement. "That's hardly ancient."

"Tell that to my younger self." Mandy shifted minutely, trying to ease the pressure on her lower back. "When I was a kid, I thought anyone over sixty had one foot in the grave. When I was little, I thought my grandmother, who was in her early sixties, was practically ancient."

Jacinth's laughter rang out, drawing curious glances from passing hospital staff. The sound reminded Mandy of wind chimes in a summer breeze.

"Children do have such interesting perspectives on age, don't they?" Jacinth tilted her head, her chocolate brown eyes sparkling, giving her a look for all the world like a mischievous sparrow.

Despite her pain, Mandy found herself grinning. "My mom was thirty-two when I was eight, and I asked her what it felt like being so old."

"And what did she say?"

"She told me to ask her again when she actually got old." The memory brought a genuine smile to Mandy's face. "Of course, by the time I thought to ask again, I was well past thirty myself."

Jacinth's laughter sparkled through the air again, and Mandy found herself smiling despite her pain. The woman's presence had somehow made the stark hospital hallway feel less intimidating, less clinical, and somehow, almost made Mandy forget the shooting pains in her back.

A nurse hurried past with an armload of supplies, and guilt stabbed through Mandy. Here she was, monopolizing this kind stranger's time when surely Jacinth had somewhere else to be.

"I'm sorry." Mandy shifted carefully, trying not to visibly wince at the movement. "Here I am, chattering away, and you must be here to visit someone. I shouldn't keep you."

"Oh?" Jacinth's eyebrows arched delicately. "What makes you think I'm here to visit someone?"

"Well, you're not wearing scrubs or a white coat." Mandy gestured at Jacinth's elegant silk outfit. "And you're way too well dressed to be a patient."

"Quite observant of you." Jacinth's fingers traced patterns on the metal bed rail, her rings catching the light. "But you needn't worry about keeping me from anything. I'm exactly where I need to be right now."

A particularly sharp pain shot through Mandy's lower back, and she couldn't quite suppress a gasp. Jacinth's expression immediately shifted to concern.

"You're hurting badly."

"It comes and goes." Mandy tried to keep her voice steady. "The worst part is not being able to find a comfortable position."

Something about the woman's presence felt... different. Soothing, somehow, like a cool breeze on a scorching day. The harsh fluorescent lighting seemed softer around her, as if she carried her own gentle illumination.

"Are you here visiting someone?" Mandy asked, curious about why this elegantly dressed woman was wandering the ER halls.

"In a manner of speaking." Jacinth's mysterious smile sparked Mandy's imagination. If she weren't in so much pain, she'd be mentally taking notes for her next book. This woman could inspire an entire character.

Mandy pushed down her curiosity about Jacinth's presence in the ER. If the woman had wanted to explain further, she would have. Besides, echoes of her mother's voice reminded her it wasn't polite to pry into other people's business.

"It's kind of you to stop and talk to me." Mandy managed a genuine smile despite another twinge in her back. "Most people just hurry past." Including the nurses and doctors, she thought with a stifled sigh, although she didn't say that aloud, of course.

"Kindness costs nothing."

Jacinth's smile radiated warmth, touching something deep inside Mandy's heart. The pain in her back receded to a dull throb as an inexplicable sense of peace washed over her.

"That's true. You know, it seems odd," Mandy couldn't quite place the feeling, but there was something familiar about Jacinth's gentle demeanor. "I feel as if I've known you forever, like an old friend, though I know we've only just met."

"Perhaps we were meant to meet today." Jacinth's rings clinked softly against the bed rail. The sound reminded Mandy of tiny bells, musical and soothing.

"You have such a beautiful spirit about you." The words slipped out before Mandy could stop them. She flushed, embarrassed by her forthrightness. "I'm sorry, that probably sounds silly."

"Not silly at all." Jacinth's eyes sparkled with an inner light that seemed to dance and flicker like candlelight. "Sometimes the heart recognizes truth that the mind cannot explain." She turned, clearly preparing to leave. She gave Mandy another one of those wonderful, warm smiles. "I hope the doctors will see you soon. No one should have to wait so long while in pain."

Her words held a note of genuine concern, as if she could sense how much Mandy's discomfort had grown over the past few hours.

"Thank you." Mandy blinked back the moisture threatening to gather in her eyes again, touched by the genuine concern in the other woman's voice.

"I wish you good luck, and a safe trip home when they finally let you leave." Jacinth's warm brown eyes held Mandy's gaze for a moment longer, her smile gentle and reassuring.

Jacinth turned away, her silk tunic rustling softly. Mandy watched her go, already missing the strange sense of comfort the woman's presence had brought. After a few steps, Jacinth paused, her head tilting as if listening to something only she could hear. She pivoted gracefully, and returned to Mandy's bedside.

"I almost forgot." Jacinth reached into her purse, pulling out something that gleamed gold between her fingers. "I have something for you."

"Oh, but-"

"Shhhh." Jacinth's gentle admonishment stopped Mandy's protest.

Mandy's eyes widened as Jacinth held up an exquisite necklace. A dark blue stone pendant hung from the gold chain, its surface etched with intricate golden patterns that seemed to shift and dance in the overhead lighting. The stone itself appeared to hold depths within its deep azure surface, like looking into a bottomless pool of clear water.

"Oh, my!" Mandy exclaimed on a long breath. "It's lovely, and so expensive! I can't possibly accept-"

"Of course you can." Jacinth's tone brooked no argument as she moved around to the head of the gurney. "Let me put it on you."

Cool metal brushed against Mandy's neck as Jacinth's gentle fingers slipped the necklace over her head. The pendant settled against her chest, surprisingly warm against her skin.

"There," Jacinth said, stepping back to admire how it looked. "It suits you perfectly."

Mandy's fingers flew to the necklace, touching the warm surface of the stone. The metal should have been cool against her skin, but instead radiated a gentle heat that seemed to pulse in time with her heartbeat.

"I-I can't accept this." Her voice trembled. "It's beautiful, but it must be worth a fortune."

"Its worth lies in the person wearing it." Jacinth's musical voice held a note of finality. "And it belongs with you right now."

"But you and I have only just met." Mandy's fingers traced the intricate patterns etched into the stone's surface. They seemed to shift beneath her touch, though she told herself it had to be a trick of the harsh hospital lighting. "Why would you give me something so precious?"

"Because it called to you." Jacinth's warm brown eyes held an ancient wisdom that made Mandy's breath catch. "Some things in this world find their own paths to where they belong."

"I… don't understand." The stone pulsed warmly against Mandy's fingertips.

"You don't need to understand." Jacinth's smile held secrets. "You need only accept that sometimes gifts come to us when we most need them."

"But-"

"No buts." Jacinth's tone remained gentle but firm. "The necklace is yours now. That's all there is to it."

Mandy opened her mouth to protest again, but something in Jacinth's expression made the words die in her throat. The woman's determination to give her this gift was absolute, and somehow Mandy knew that further protests would be futile.

Instead, she whispered, "Thank you. It's the most beautiful thing anyone has ever given me."

With a charming smile, Jacinth turned away once more, her silk clothing rustling softly as she moved. This time she didn't look back, and within moments she'd vanished around a corner, leaving Mandy alone with her thoughts and the warmth of the mysterious pendant against her skin.

A throat cleared nearby. "Mrs. Dupont?"

Mandy looked up to find a doctor standing beside her gurney, frowning as he studied her chart. His salt-and-pepper hair and wire-rimmed glasses gave him a professorial air.

"How long have you been out here?" He flipped through the pages, his frown deepening. "Four hours? That's unacceptable."

"I know it's been busy for you all this morning." Excusing the ER personnel came instinctively to her lips.

"Still." He shook his head. "Back pain of this severity should never wait this long. I see you have a history of spinal stenosis?"

"Yes. I always have a low baseline pain, but it can usually be managed without medication, but this morning it froze up..." She trailed off, remembering the helpless feeling of being trapped in her own bed.

"I'm going to order an injection. It should help with both the immediate pain and give you some relief for a few days." He made some notes on her chart. "We'll need you to stay for at least thirty minutes afterward to monitor for any adverse reactions. Did you drive yourself here?"

"No, I came by ambulance. I'll call an Uber to get home."

"Good." He nodded approvingly. "The shot will make you a bit woozy - driving wouldn't be safe." He patted her shoulder. "The nurse will be here in a few minutes with the injection. I'm sorry you had to wait so long."

"Thank you." Mandy watched him stride away, her fingers still absently stroking the mysterious pendant. The stone's warmth seemed to pulse in time with her heartbeat, and somehow the pain in her back didn't feel quite as sharp as before.

The Uber driver pulled up to the curb outside Mandy's apartment building. She eased herself out of the back seat, murmuring her thanks. The shot had fully kicked in during the ride home, and while her back no longer screamed in agony, exhaustion weighed heavily.

Thank goodness she had a ground floor apartment. She fumbled with her purse, trying to get her keys out with one hand, while keeping hold of her cane with the other, the pendant at her throat still radiating that strange, comforting warmth. Getting the key in the door finally, the lock clicked, and she pushed the door open and stepped inside.

"I'm home!" she called out softly. Two sets of paws thundered across the hardwood floor as Mozart and Bach, her beloved orange tabbies, came racing to greet her.

"Hey, babies." She kicked off her shoes by the door, wiggling her toes in relief. "I'm sorry I was gone so long."

Bach wound between her ankles while Mozart sat at attention, both cats vocalizing their not-so-happy opinions about having not been fed first thing that morning.

"Yes, yes, I know you're starving. I'm the absolute worst cat mom in the history of cat moms." After propping her cane in the corner behind the door, Mandy headed toward the kitchen, her cats leading the way like furry tour guides. "Heaven forbid you should have to wait until noon for breakfast. Never mind that your automatic feeder gives you all-you-can-eat kibble."

The familiar routine of opening a can of wet food and dividing it between two bowls settled something inside her. The cats dove into their morning snack while she filled her electric kettle and pulled her favorite orange pekoe tea from the cabinet.

While the water heated, she leaned against the counter, her fingers finding the pendant again. The stone's warmth pulsed against her palm, and she wondered about the mysterious Jacinth. The whole encounter felt dreamlike now, as if she'd imagined the elegant woman with her musical voice and gentle wisdom.

The kettle clicked off. She poured the steaming water over her tea bag, breathing in the soothing aroma as she added in a spoonful of sugar. Cradling the warm mug, she made her way to her recliner.

Mandy sank into her recliner, fumbling for the remote control. Adjusting the back and footrest, she sighed in relief as her body settled into a more comfortable position. Finished with their oh-so-late breakfast, Mozart immediately claimed her lap, while Bach perched on the arm of the chair, watching her with regal dignity. The familiar silky texture of Mozart's long, thick fur under her fingers, Bach's rumbling purr, combined with the comfort of being home in her favorite chair, began to ease away the tension of the long hours in the ER.

The warmth from the tea seeped into her chest as she took another sip. Her eyelids grew heavier with each passing moment, the Demerol from the ER spreading its foggy tendrils through her mind. The mug tilted dangerously in her grip, and she forced her eyes open, setting it carefully on the side table before she could spill it.

"I know it's only afternoon," she murmured to her cats, her words starting to slur slightly. "But Mama needs to go to bed before she falls asleep right here."

Mozart chirped in protest as she gently displaced him from her lap. She used the remote to return the chair to its upright position, her movements growing more uncoordinated by the second.

The short walk to her bedroom felt like miles. She managed to pull her nightgown from under her pillow, fumbling with the buttons of her blouse. The pendant slipped beneath the cotton of her nightgown, still radiating that peculiar warmth against her skin where it lay between her breasts.

Her bed had never looked more inviting. She barely registered Mozart and Bach following her into the room as she collapsed onto the mattress, not even bothering to pull up the covers. Sleep claimed her before her head fully settled onto the pillow.