Thank God you were here.

What happened to Jessi?”

“Severe anaphylactic shock,” I said.

He went pale — a good, convincing pale.

“From food?”

I looked directly at him.

“We’re still trying to determine that.” “Let me see her.” “No.” “We’ve been friends since we were kids, Ivan.” “And she’s in intensive care.” He grabbed my arm.

“Five minutes.” And I looked down at the hand on my arm — the immaculate nails, the clean, careful fingers, the hands of a pharmacist, the hands that would know precisely how a transdermal compound crosses the skin and enters the blood and how long it takes and where to place it for the fastest effect.