’ I thought, not answering. ‘Abnormal?’ No shit. ‘How soon before I can get out of here?’ ‘Oh, three, maybe four days. Then some followup....�� He went over the mess, broken left arm in thirteen places, broken shoulder, broken left leg in two, four broken ribs, concussion, fractured cheekbone, nose rather badly messed up from the airbag, plus the usual rotator cuff injury. I asked for a mirror. The nurse brought one, I looked and set it aside. I hated my nose all my life. Now I wanted it back!. What is her name? A flower's name, Peter hadlong ago decided. A flower's name. But not, he's whispered to himself,gazing at the mirror, not that one. Nor Narcissus.So Peter sits, like a stone sits, perhaps, or like that gazer in anancient story, trapped by a vision in the limpid water of a forestpool. Trapped, heart still pounding, knowing that Prue and Jean-Pierreare talking, knowing that soon the time will come to learn what is tohappen next. In the other room, he knows, she'll find before. More

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