Second Life (Preview)

Chapter 8: Susan

The way she said “get you walking again” actually sent a shiver through my body. I’ve always assumed the spinal recalibration Col. Parker mentioned involved surgery. If that is the case, I’m out. There is no way I am letting this woman come near me with a knife.

Clearly, Barbara’s opinion is worthless, because this woman — Dr. Donnelly — is not trustworthy. “Yes,” I say, smiling. “I want to know more about the procedure. I believe it’s called spinal recalibration.”

She looks surprised I know this, and a smile that seems genuine emerges. “Yes, it’s brand new. We attach nanoparticles to stem cells, and insert them into your body. The nanoparticle/stem cell team then work to repair your spinal cord. The nanoparticles tell the cells where to attach, and the cells grow new tissue, replacing the damaged areas.”

I am about to ask a question, when I hear the electronic lock click. I turn my head to see the door open. Rob walks in. He is dressed in a white lab coat and has a stethoscope around his neck. I know I look utterly shocked, so I try compose my face to look more confused about his appearance — which I am — than surprised to see him again.

He looks mainly at the woman on the sofa, Dr. Donnelly, anger simmering in his eyes, then speaks. “I’m sorry I’m late,” he says to me. Then he looks at her and speaks tightly. “Apparently, no one gave me your message saying you planned to meet with Ms. Harper down here.”

There’s something going on that I’m not privy to. I consider sitting here like a mute bystander, but dismiss the idea. “Who are you?” I ask Rob. It’s a question I’ve wanted the answer to since he snuck into my room five days ago.

He opens his mouth to respond, but Dr. Donnelly speaks instead. “This is my son, Dr. Samuel Donnelly.”

Samuel? Confused, I go slightly bug-eyed when she says it, and then turn immediately to her son seeking some type of explanation.

 For his part, Rob — or is it Samuel? — grimaces. “Junior,” he says. “I’m Samuel Robert Donnelly, Jr., and the only person ever called Samuel in my family is my father. You can call me Rob, Ms. Harper.”

I nod. Two doctor Donnellys. This is interesting. And maybe Barbara’s opinions aren’t so bad after all. Rob, if that’s the Dr. Donnelly she meant, is definitely trustworthy. “Nice to meet you, Rob,” I say.

He and I stare at each other a moment longer than we should. I notice things like how straight his teeth are, and wonder if he had braces. There’s a little scar on his left eyebrow that makes me curious about what debacle could have caused it. And his hands, closed tight around a tablet, look strong and sturdy. I could spend more time looking at him, but his mother speaks.

“Sammy,” says the elder Donnelly, a hint of irritation in her voice. “I was just about to explain the procedure to Ms. Harper. Sit here,” she commands, sliding over so she’s clearly on one half of the sofa, not perched right in the middle.

He remains standing, and I’m sure I saw his jaw tighten when she called him Sammy. Despite his clear annoyance, his tone is even when he speaks. “Col. Parker said Ms. Harper wanted to have a better understanding of the procedure before she spoke with Sen. Reed. I’d like to take her upstairs and show her our modeling. I think it would help her get the information she needs.” When he turns to me, his face brightens, his lips forge a half smile, and his eyes transfix me with their intensity. “Ms. Harper, would you like to come upstairs with me?”

“Yes,” I breathe out.

His mother makes a sound somewhere between a choke and a retch as she stands. Rob ignores this; he stares only at me.