Candis straightened Taylor’s blanket. “You warm enough, dear?”

“Yeah, fine,” she said, waiting for the nurse to answer. “Who’s arrived?”

Candis made a face that indicated complete disgust.

“That kid from up north,” she said. “The one who killed those two girls. He and one of the murder victim’s mothers are being rolled in downstairs to ICU.”

Taylor played dumb. She and her sister had a pretty good idea what had gone on. Drew had turned out to be a maniac. “What happened?” she asked.

“The cops are sorting it out,” Candis said.

“That’s good. How are they doing?” Hayley asked.

Candis looked around the room, her eyes flitting from girl to girl. “We’re not allowed to give out that kind of info, but between you and me and the fence post, I doubt either one of them will make it. They are both cut up pretty bad. Kind of fitting, if you ask me.”

Hayley was interested in her choice of words. She seemed to be, after all, a kind-hearted nurse.

“Fitting?” she asked.

Candis shrugged and shut the file folder documenting their progress since they’d arrived from McNeil Island. Both girls were scraped up a little. Taylor was chilled to the bone from her swim, but was otherwise in good shape. Hayley had cracked a rib, but her leg, which had felt so sore, was fine—bruised but fine. Their condition was nothing short of remarkable, considering their ordeal.

“He cut up that girl, the foreign one, up in Port Gamble. Looks like the psycho got what he deserved. A taste of his own bloody medicine.” Candis looked around warily, but went on. “Mind you, I’m not supposed to talk about other patients. But sometimes I just can’t help myself. It just comes out of me like a burp. I’ll be back in an hour,” she said. “Your mom will be here soon. Your dad too. He’s coming from the airport.”

Hayley nodded. She was glad to hear that. So was her sister.

“Thanks, Candis,” Hayley said.

“Yeah, thanks,” Taylor added.

Candis smiled at the twins. Their pale skin had regained some color and they looked much, much better.

“You two really are something,” she said. “Crawling around in a prison and swimming in Puget Sound in November? Good gravy.

Unreal.” She winked at them and stepped out into the hall.

The instant Candis had disappeared down the hallway, Taylor looked over at her sister. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Hayley nodded, feeling a stab of pain in her sore rib from the motion. “Yeah. We’re going downstairs.”

Taylor smiled. “Uh-huh. That’s right.”

Hayley slid gingerly to the edge of the bed, and disconnected the IV with the saline solution. “Okay,” she said, “but can you double-tie this stupid hospital gown? If it pops open in the rear, there will be another dead girl from Port Gamble—dead from embarrassment.”

Taylor went to help her and started to giggle. “Got your back, Hayley. Literally.”

Hayley shot her a playful glare, and two minutes later they were headed toward the elevator.

“Let’s take the stairs. No one ever takes the stairs,” Taylor said.

“Right,” Hayley said, “because in a hospital, not many can.”

THE TWINS LOOKED THROUGH THE GLASS of the Intensive Care Unit. It was like a force field, a zoo, a separation from the hectic pace of the place and the empty, sad, sterile room that represented the last chance for so many patients. A group of ER nurses sat around a big horseshoe-shaped desk chatting and watching a bank of monitors that displayed all the vitals for each of the patients who were being observed in the ICU.

Standing among them like a redwood in a forest of bonsai were Annie Garnett and her part-time deputy Stephen Shields. The girls recognized him primarily from his second job at the humane society.

“Someone lose their cat?” Hayley joked.

Taylor put her fingers to her lips and kept her eyes fixed on Annie. The police chief was speaking to one of the nurses.

“Can you make out what she’s saying?” Hayley asked, leaning as close to the glass as she could without touching it.

Taylor had taken a year of American Sign Language as her foreign language requirement and while she didn’t have a knack for signing, she was pretty good at reading lips.

“Yeah,” she said. “Annie is telling the nurses that she and her deputy are getting coffee and they’ll be back in a half hour. The nurse is saying that the patients are stable but unresponsive.”

Annie and Stephen started toward the girls. Hayley jerked Taylor into the first doorway by the entrance to the ICU.

“That was close,” she said.

“We need to find out what really happened to Olivia.”

“And Brianna. Don’t forget her.”

“I think I know part of why she was killed, but there’s got to be more to the story.”

Taylor noticed that they were in the nurses’ locker and break room. A row of plum-colored scrubs hung on pegs on the farthest wall. They could hear a shower running and the sound of a nurse washing her hair. She was belting out an Adele song like she was auditioning for X Factor.

And she didn’t have a chance.

“Let’s get out of these gowns and into those,” Hayley said, pointing to the scrubs.

Taylor nodded and started to dress. “You take Drew,” she said. “I’ll take Brianna’s mom.”

Hayley slipped into a pair of scrubs and tied the belt with a bow. She realized the pair would not be in the same room. Until the police chief had everything sorted out, both suspects would remain in isolation.

Even so, she wasn’t thrilled with her sister’s division of the task at hand.

“How come I get him? He’s so creepy,” Hayley said.

“And Mrs. Baker isn’t?” Taylor asked, annoyed, but still able to keep her voice low. “Come on, we can’t argue. We’ve got the tiniest window of opportunity to see what we can find out.”

The only way into the ICU was with a key card, and while neither girl had ever stolen a thing in their lives, they went for the open locker where the nurse in the shower had undressed. Hanging on a steel hook was a lanyard emblazoned with TEAM HARBORVIEW. At the end of it dangled a hospital key card with the smiling photo of a middle-aged woman with cream-colored skin and black hair.

“She’s Meagan,” Taylor whispered. “Well, I guess you’re Meagan now. I’ve always sort of liked that name.” Taylor looked closely at the photo and shook her head. “You look nothing like her, by the way.”

Hayley tugged at her sister. “Very funny.”

“Okay, Meg, let’s go. And remember, the key is to act like you belong here. All right?”

“Got it,” she said. “I’m all attitude.”

A second later, Hayley swiped the card. They were in.

BLOOD CRUSTED HIS HAIR and Drew Marcello’s eyes were shut. Tubes snaked from his arm to a glistening IV unit that hung on a steel hook just over his right shoulder. A heart monitor to his left tapped out a steady beat in a pale green light.

“Drew,” Hayley said, keeping her voice low and aimed at his ear. “Can you hear me?”

The monitor kept its steady dull flashing, but Drew remained still and quiet.

Hayley looked up and caught the eye of a nurse, who, incredibly, waved to her from the other side of the room.

She waved back and did what she had to do to get Drew to answer— she gave him a shove on his bandaged shoulder.

“Drew, damn it. Wake up!”

His eyes fluttered a little and, hearing his name, he cracked them open a tiny slit.

“Mom?”

“No, it’s not your mom. It’s me. Hayley Ryan.”

His eyes wandered over hers. “You work here?”

Hayley swallowed and nodded. “Kind of part-time,” she said.

“Oh. I’m in the hospital, right?” he asked, his eyes tracking the space all around him once more.

“That’s right,” she said. “You’re gonna make it.”

Drew closed his eyes and turned away. “I don’t want to make it,” he said. “I’m better off dead.”

Hayley watched the monitor flicker. She nudged him again. “You need to tell me what happened to Olivia and Brianna, Drew.”