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I made my way upstairs, and was soon visiting my sister.She was sitting up in bed. The dialysis machine was not in evidence, and her skin color was looking much better. She looked nearly normal."Paul! This place is amazing! You have to give me a tour of this world, when I get out of here. They say I am making a good recovery. I am learning so much here! And television! What a wonderful concept! I have a lot of plans for when I get out of this hospital," Mirwanna said.We talked for a while. I told her about the phone call from Homeland Security. I had to fill her in on that, and I also told her about being followed from my hotel to the hospital.She frowned a bit, but then her face cleared as she told me to contact this homeland thing, and find out what they want. If it could be settled simply, then there would be no problem. If it was something more serious, she told me: "Handle it."So the day passed. I spotted one of my tails out in the corridor, and decided to find out what this was. The brakes squealed as it pulled up, seemingly, right outside her window.Bloody typical she thought. Just when I want to relax in peace some inconsiderate yob parks outside.Rinsing the shampoo suds out of her hair, she runs the showerhead, one final time, over every inch of her body. Grabbing a towel, folding around her head, she takes another warmed towel off the rail and pats herself dry. Wrapping it around her body and tucking in at the top, to keep it secure, she takes the towel from her head and rubs her hair. Vigorously rubbing she stops dead. Akin to an animal being hunted, her ears instantaneously pricked and tuned in to a sound.She knew the sound all too well. It was the sound of the front door lock turning. Straining, all she could hear was the hiss of enveloping white noise when everything is deathly quiet. Hearing nothing more she dismisses it. It's either Bridget checking the door was locked or just water in my ears she concludes and continues drying.Her body now.
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