The next person who walked into my room was Layla Latimer.
It was morning by then; I could see it from the way the light fell on the trees outside my window. I wanted to scream when I saw her, but I found that my tongue was stuck in my throat, and I couldn’t make a sound.
“Now, Lisa, really; I told you I’d be watching,” she scolded when she got close enough. I noticed she had a syringe in her hand, but I seemed frozen, unable to lift a finger as she came up beside the bed and inserted it into my IV line.
“This’ll just knock you out for a little while, so there’s no fuss. We’ll be headed back to New Mexico in a few minutes; you and me and Marcus. Then we’ll wait for Cody to come along, which I’m sure he will, shortly,” Layla said soothingly, as if comforting a recalcitrant child.