Page 2

Fingers.

We have fingers.

The left hand follows.

Next, I get my breath. I haul in a lungful of cold air and cough so hard my whole body jolts against the table.

Sensation returns to the rest of my body in a rush and I lurch upright, the sheets sliding from my shoulders to my waist. My eyes spring open and I observe my surroundings. Bright overhead light, a steel table with a little gutter running around the edge, a hose hangs coiled on the wall, and the floor slopes toward a drain.

Before I could make my great escape, the door swings open at the far end of the room, and a beautiful man in scrubs walks in eating a sandwich.

He has smooth brown skin, and a head of loose dark curls. He is wearing purple scrubs with a pair of wired earbuds slung around his neck, still faintly leaking music. He seems familiar but I can’t quite place him.

He stops in his tracks when he spots me.

He looks at me.

I look at him.

The sandwich looks at both of us.

“Ah,” he says, calmly, still chewing. “Well…this is going to complicate my paperwork.”

I yank the sheet up to cover my chest and look at him with wide eyes. “What are you doing here?”

He squints his eyes, looking at me as if I’m an idiot and still munching at that damn sandwich that my stomach so desperately wants a taste of. “My job?”

I look at his food then back to him with a curled lip. “But you’re eating…”

“Yes. It’s the thing living beings do to sustain their bodies.”

“Uh but there’s dead bodies in here?”

You would think there would be some type of aversion to food when handling a dead body, but I guess it doesn’t apply to him.

He waves the sandwich at me. “Yeah, and you should be one of them too.”

Kind of true.

But still.

Ew.

Eating a sandwich while in a room with dead bodies is a choice.

A very weird one.

Despite all of that, the man was hawt.

Grrrrrrr.

But alas, at this moment, I, too, am going to make a weird choice because I’m starving. I hope he didn’t hear my stomach.

I lick my lips, the hunger biting angrily in my stomach. “Can I get a bite?” I’m taking the saying ‘closed mouths don’t get fed’ literally because a girl’s gotta eat. “Just a nibble.”

“Hmm.” He contemplates my request then nods. “Only if you explain to me what’s going on.”

I clap my hands in excitement. “Deal. Now hand it over and hear about the tale of a beautiful perfect woman pissing off a witch on Halloween…”