“What do you mean by that?” Braxton asked her.

“I can't have close friendships.”

“Why not? Oh yes, your boss prohibits it.”

“You're getting it.” She drifted off, but was woken up when Braxton's phone rang.

“Sorry, I thought that was off”, he said as he reached in his pocket. Looking at the display, he saw that it was Gael Brennan. “It's your father.” Accepting the call, he answered “Hi, Gael.”

“Hello, Braxton. I'm sorry to call so late, but I hadn't heard from you and we're all wondering how Marissa's operation went.”

“It went well, Gael. Just took a little longer than they thought it would. We haven't been in her room long.”

“They are keeping her?”

“Yes, for a night or two. They did find that the cut on her arm is infected, but not to worry. She is on antibiotics and that will clear it up.” He did not tell him about the bleeding as he didn't know about her tumour or the biopsy.

“How is she feeling? Is she in pain?”

“She's a bit sleepy from the anesthetic, but that is normal. They have her on pain medication and it seems to be working.”

“That is a relief. We have been so worried about her. Can I speak with her now?” This part had been pre-planned, though Braxton hadn't known that Gael would call that night. It was supposed to be the next day when he asked to speak with his daughter.

“Sure, Gael. Just a sec.” He turned to Marissa and put the phone to her ear. “Marissa, your father wants to say hello.” Taken off guard, her eyes went wide open as she tried to shake her head no. Braxton kept the phone to her ear.

“Marissa, are you there?” her father asked.

Realizing that resistance was futile, she gave up the fight. “Hi, Daddy”, she replied.

“Baby, we've been so worried about you.”

“I'm fine, Daddy.”

“No, you are not. You are lying there in a hospital bed because you needed an operation after getting the shit kicked out of you.”

“It's okay, Daddy. I will be fine.”

“It is not okay. Someone beat my little girl up and I want to know who. I'll come down there with one of your big brothers and we'll mete out some justice.”

“No. Leave it be. I'm not even supposed to be talking to you.”

“What do you mean you aren't? Who says?”

“My boss.”

“Your boss cannot stop you from talking to your family.”

“He can.”

“No, there are laws.”

“It's an agreement I made. Don't ask why. I can't tell you.”

“Marissa, I'm coming down there. Something smells here, and I intend to get to the bottom of it.”

“No! You cannot come down here. You will endanger everyone, including me. Promise me you will stay home!”

“I can't promise that.”

“You have to!” She was almost shouting now. Braxton took the phone away from her ear and spoke into it.

“Gael, Marissa is getting too worked up. I have to put an end to the conversation. She needs to rest.”

“Okay, but I'm coming down there. I am going to find out what is going on with her.”

“I wouldn't advise that right now. She's too upset. Let her settle down. I'm here, no harm will come to her.”

“Will you stay with her?”

“I promise you I will. And she is coming back to my house when they release her. I will call you tomorrow, okay?” When he'd ended the call, he said to Marissa. “I'm sorry. If I'd known you would get so upset, I wouldn't have done that.”

“I know you mean well, but there is a reason I can't talk to anyone from home. Please respect that, Braxton. And he can't come down here!”

“Okay, Marissa. Right now the important thing is that you get better. Please try to relax. I know you are fighting the effects of the anesthetic. Don't. Go to sleep.”

“Can you hand me my bag, please?”

“Why? What do you need?”

“My phone. I need to check my messages.”

Braxton got up and got her bag from beside the bedside stand. “Where is it?”

“In a pocket on the outside.” He found the phone and handed it to her. She checked her calls. There were three from Brian. Checking her messages, she found 2 from him. She listened to them. He said he wanted to know how her surgery went and asked for her to call him, no matter how late it was. He sounded worried. “I need to call my boss. He's worried and wants to know how it went.”

“While you do that, I'm going to see if I can find a vending machine. I'm hungry. Do you want anything?”

“Thank you, but no.”

“You should have something, Marissa.”

“Maybe a chocolate bar.”

Braxton sighed. “Any other time I would say no. But tonight, I will get it for you. Only because you have had a rough evening.”

When he'd left the room, Marissa called Brian. He answered on the second ring. “June”, he said, seeing her name on the display. “How did it go? I've been so worried.”

“I'm sorry I couldn't call earlier, Brian”, she replied. “It took longer than they thought it would and I had to stay in Recovery an extra hour.”

“Did something happen?”

“My blood pressure went down too low during surgery. They wanted to make sure it was okay before bringing me to my room.”

“That's why the operation took longer?”

“No, I think the doctor had a bit of a time getting the bones aligned properly. And I have an infection in the cut. Brian, who is Dr Mike? They said the stitches were put in sloppily – some had come out.”

Brian sighed. “June, we need someone to patch people up for us, and most doctors wouldn't do something like that and keep quiet about it. Just leave it be at that, okay?”

“Okay, Brian.”

“What are they doing for the infection?”

“They put me on IV antibiotics. I have to learn how to do them before they let me go.”

“You can do them at home?”

“Yes, and my friend is going to learn how, too. That way they can help me.” She kept it gender neutral so as not to give any information about Braxton away. “Brian, I'm sorry. I don't think I'm going to be able to work for quite a while.”

“That's okay, June. I expected that. Besides, we're feeling the heat from law enforcement, so we aren't sending any workers out from Denver for now. We may have to send all of you to other cities.”

“Oh, no, Brian! I don't want to go anywhere else!”

“There may be no choice, June. You don't want to get caught and go to prison, do you?”

“No, of course not.”

“And do not worry, if we have to send you somewhere else, we will help you pack and get moved. I know you can't pack up by yourself. Will you please call me tomorrow and let me know how you are doing?”

“Yes, Brian. I will call you tomorrow if I get a chance.”

“Is your friend in the room now?”

“No, they went to see if they could find something to eat.”

“Oh, good. Only call me if you have privacy.”

Marissa set her phone on the stand beside the bed and closed her eyes. A few tears escaped and ran down her cheeks. She did not want to have to leave Denver, though she had conflicting emotions about Braxton. She was beginning to like having him as a friend but she also knew she could not get too close or Brian would put an end to it.

Braxton left his spot by Marissa's open door and crept down the hall as quietly as he could. He knew he shouldn't have eavesdropped, but he couldn't help it. He was hoping to get some insight as to why she was so secretive. Unfortunately, he had more questions and no answers. It sounded like Marissa might be transferred to another city. Is that what she meant when she'd said she wouldn't be there much longer? She'd asked about Dr Mike. He didn't know what she got for a reply but it seemed to satisfy her. He wished he could ask her, but doing so would give away the fact that he'd listened and he was afraid she'd push him away for good if she found out.

He returned to her room with toast on a plate. The nurse at the desk said there were no vending machines on this floor, but she showed him the kitchenette and said he could make some toast. He made two slices for himself and one for Marissa.

She appeared to be sleeping. He saw the dried tears on her cheeks and wondered what Brian had said to upset her so much. Leaning over the rail, he kissed her forehead. She opened her eyes. “I didn't mean to wake you.”

“I wasn't sleeping, just resting my eyes.” The drowsiness in her voice gave her lie away.

He set the plate down and went to the bathroom, where he wet a facecloth, which he used to clean up her dried tears. “There are no vending machines on the floor, so I got some toast from the kitchenette. I'd like you to have some. Please.” Marissa didn't argue and had half a slice. Braxton was impressed, he didn't think she would eat even that much.

The night nurse came in to take her vitals. When she'd left, Marissa said she wanted to sleep again. The anesthesia was really taking it's toll on her. Braxton sat in the recliner that had been brought into the room for him to sleep on. They were used when a family member or friend had permission to stay overnight with the patient. He also had a pillow and blanket. When he saw that Marissa was asleep, he reclined in the chair and closed his eyes.

He was awoken a couple hours later by rustling and moaning. Opening his eyes, he saw Marissa thrashing about and muttering “Please, no!” over and over. Afraid that she was going to hit the rail with her casted arm, he ran around the bed and lowered it, then held her down like he had the night before, all the while telling her to wake up. Finally, she did.

“Wh-what's going on?” she asked.

“You were thrashing about again, saying “please, no” over and over again. “Marissa, what is going on? Why are you having these dreams?”

“I don't know! You're the therapist, shouldn't you know?”

Ignoring the dig, he replied “You haven't given me enough information to even make a guess.”

A nurse came in just then. “Is everything okay?” she asked Marissa.

“She had a bad dream”, Braxton told her. He had released his hold on Marissa and was now sitting on the bed. “She'll be fine, she's calming down.”

The nurse left the room and Braxton fixed the blankets, which Marissa had kicked off. He sat down on the bed again. She looked like she was about to cry. “What's wrong? Are you in pain?” he asked.

“A bit.”

Just then, the door opened and Dr Maynard walked in. “I was in the ER and I thought I'd check on Marissa when I got done”, he said to Braxton. “The nurse told me she had a bad dream.”

“She's settling down, but she's in some pain.”

“Is it your wrist?” Maynard asked Marissa.

“And my back.”

“Let me see your back.” He walked around to the other side of the bed – Marissa was on her right side. Reaching over the rails, he pulled the blankets down and looked under the bandage covering the site where the biopsy needle had gone in. He didn't see anything amiss, but felt around just to be safe.

“Ouch!” Marissa cried out when he hit a tender spot.

“Sorry, Marissa. I have to check to make sure you didn't cause bleeding when you were thrashing about. It looks okay, but I'm going to get an ultrasound to make sure there is no internal bleeding.”

“I just want to sleep.”

“You can doze off. I'm bringing the machine here to your room, you don't have to go anywhere.”

He was back in a few minutes with the portable ultrasound machine. “I'll leave the room to give you some privacy”, Braxton said as he headed for the door. “I need to stretch my legs anyway.”

“What happens if you find blood?” Marissa asked as Dr Maynard set up the machine.

“It depends on how much. If it's just a little bit, there is a good chance it will stop on it's own. If there's more than a little bit, I will have to go in and try to get it to stop.”

“Surgery?”

“Yes.”

“No. I won't consent.”

Gideon had been just about to squeeze the gel onto her abdomen, but was stopped in his tracks. “Why not?” he asked.

“No more surgery”, she replied. She was so sleepy, she was about to nod off.

“Why do you say that, June? Sorry … Marissa.” He was so used to calling her June, sometimes he slipped up, forgetting that her real name was Marissa. She didn't answer. He decided to take the bull by the horns. “Marissa, do you *want* to die?”

She was almost asleep and not at all alert. Had she been awake, she'd have been more careful. “It's my ticket out.”

Maynard was taken off guard. “Your ticket out of what?” he asked in a soft voice. “Marissa, what are you involved in?” but she was asleep and didn't hear him. He did the scan and saw some blood in her abdomen, but not enough to take her to surgery at this point in time. He decided to leave the machine in the room and do another one in an hour to see if the amount of blood had changed.