The elevator doors opened, and Sam, who was leaning against the side wall of the lift, stood up straight and staggered out into the corridor. Even through her sunglasses, the fluorescent lights overhead were blinding, especially after coming in from the darkness outside.

Urges to puke came and went about every two minutes. So far, Sam was dominant over those. She kept her eyes on her feet as she walked, in a swerving line down the corridor, passing into the oncology wing.

Her head ached dully, and her mouth was dry. She'd brushed her teeth twice and used mouthwash, but that still did not counteract the feeling that she had sweaters on all of her teeth. But, she was dealing with that happily. Everything seemed miraculous after the fact that it had taken her about fifteen minutes to physically pry her eyelids open.

John hadn't been there when she woke up. But he was there when she went to sleep, she was approximately eighty nine percent sure of it. That was a pretty good percentage, given the amount that she drank, which she would never do again by the way.

Sam made it to the end of the corridor without incident.

"Oh my," Finch's voice reverberated off of the inside of her skull. Sam winced as she squinted at him through her sunglasses.

"Are you feeling all right?" he asked as he took her by the arm and led her to a chair along the wall.

"I'm fine, just stop being so loud, Harold," Sam choked out. "I'm sorry about earlier."

"We understood," Finch seemed to look through her for a second. "However, the next time you decide on going on a nearly suicidal binge, I would like some forewarning."

"You got it," Sam agreed. "And there won't be anymore binging, I promise."

Her head spun and her stomach went with it. She groaned and gripped the arms of the chair until the woozy feeling subsided.

Something cold rested on her hand. Harold had placed a fresh ice pack there.

"Thanks," Sam said and put it on her forehead. It didn't relieve all of the symptoms, but it dulled them enough that she could look away from the floor without feeling like spewing.

"So, John's note said that you'd give me the details?" Sam still found herself squinting at him, but her head wasn't throbbing, which was a plus.

"Yes. Callie Horace is our new number. She is a patient here. Do you feel well enough to stand?"

"Yeah."

Finch offered her his hand and she pulled herself up, holding onto him for support. They walked across the width of the corridor to a thick, glass wall. The blinds were partially closed on the other side of the glass, but Sam looked into the room and saw a child lying on the hospital bed.

She was hooked up to about half a dozen machines, and was awake. Her eyes looked large and round in her frail face, they looked around the room aimlessly. She wore a standard hospital gown, and a pink, knitted cap on her head.

"This is Callie Horace. She's ten years old and has a brain tumor."

Sam nearly toppled over, feeling as though her breath had been taken from her with Finch's words. She stepped closer to the glass for a better look while also gaining Callie's attention.

"Will she be okay?"

"She has a year, roughly," Finch said.

Callie lifted up her hand, which was covered in tape that attached tubes and wires to her body, and waved at Sam. Sam smiled and waved back.

"Her mother was just here. She stays here most nights to be close to her daughter, but she went home tonight to sleep in her own bed."

"Who could possibly want to kill this poor thing?"

"That's what Mr. Reese is trying to find out as we speak. Do you have your earpiece?"

Sam grimaced. Stuffing a device in her ear that conveyed sound directly to her ear drum was not something she wanted to deal with right now. "I have it."

"We'll have to keep in constant contact with this one. You need to stay here with Callie. Keep an eye on her, see if anyone else visits her and try to get their names. Mr. Reese is checking on the father right now."

"Any other siblings?" Sam asked as she dug in her pocket for her phone and earpiece.

"Not that I've found," Finch said. "A month ago, Callie was living at home as well as was possible when her symptoms worsened and they checked her into the hospital. She's been in this isolation unit for over a week. From what I understand, they plan to release her to a normal hospital room within the next day or so, once they are certain that her white blood cell count is back up."

"No one can get to her in here," Sam said, looking at the chamber with the bio suits. "They would wait until she was in a normal room."

"That's what Mr. Reese thinks as well."

Sam put in her earpiece and connected her phone with John's and Finch's.

"How are you feeling, Sam?" John's voice said in her ear.

"I'm spectacular. How are you?"

Finch shook his head. "I'm headed back to HQ. Sam is with Callie."

"Roger that," Sam saluted as Finch walked away. She looked at Callie through the glass. The little girl hadn't taken her eyes off of her. She waved again, and pointed at something.

Sam looked closer and saw a button next to the bed. Callie pressed it.

"This is so people don't have to come in to talk to me," her voice came through to Sam's side of the glass. It was such a small voice.

The little intercom speaker was built into the wall next to the door. Sam pressed the button. "That's pretty cool," Sam said.

"Who are you?" Callie asked. The top part of her bed raised a little so she could sit up and see better.

"I'm Sam. Um, my… mother is in a room just down the hall. I just wanted to walk around a little."

"Hi Sam, I'm Callie," Callie smiled.

"Hi Callie."

"You have really pretty hair," Callie said. "I used to have hair like your color."

"Thank you," Sam absently pushed her unwashed mess of hair over her shoulder. "Has no one else come to visit you, Callie?"

Callie shook her head, then shrugged her narrow shoulders. "There was a guy earlier. I don't know him. He didn't stay long, though."

"Was he tall, dark hair, a little scary?"

"Thanks, Sam," John said in her ear.

"Yes," Callie nodded.

"Oh, he's nothing to worry about. That's my, uh – my uh, brother, John."

"I can't wait until I can get into a normal room so people stop staring at me like I'm a science project."

"You can always push your button and tell them to go away," Sam suggested. "Tell them to go to the aquarium and stare at some fish if they like staring so much!"

That got a giggle out of Callie. Sam saw her entire body shaking with laughter.

"It may be helpful to ask her about her father," Finch suggested.

"Are your mom and dad here?" Sam asked.

Callie shook her head once. "Mommy needed to sleep. She was here before, and she'll come tomorrow. Daddy works a lot. But, he comes sometimes."

"That is an understatement," John said in her ear. "Leland Horace has not left his office all day long. It's almost eleven at night, and he's still there."

"What an unfortunate name," Finch said.

"Maybe you should get some sleep too, sweetie," Sam suggested.

"I'm tired of being tired."

"I know. But it's really late, past your bedtime anyway, I bet. I'll be right here if you need anything, though, okay?"

"Okay. Bye, Sam," Callie turned onto her side and closed her eyes. She was asleep almost instantly.

"Bye, Callie."

Sam backed away from the glass and took a seat along the corridor. She pulled a book out of her jacket pocket and opened it up to the last place she marked. "You guys have anything else? I'm about to stand in front of the door to that room with a double bladed axe."

"Don't make any dramatic gestures just yet, Miss Watts," Finch said.

"Axes are too messy, anyway," John joked.

The lines went quiet, and Sam started reading her book. She glanced up periodically, checking on Callie, who remained sound asleep. It was closer to midnight and Sam was several pages from where she left off in her book when John spoke again.

"Oh," he said simply.

After a long pause, Finch spoke up. "Would you care to elaborate, Mr. Reese?"

"Finch, you said that Mrs. Horace is at the hospital most of the day?"

"Every day as far as I know. A lot of the staff know her by name."

Sam listened to their conversation as she continued reading.

"Well, I think the reason Leland Horace has lost himself in his work is partially due to that. He never sees his wife. So he's seeing someone else."

Sam snapped the book shut without marking her place, and sat up in her chair, on full alert.

Finch didn't respond right away, apparently also absorbing the shock of this latest development in their case. "Do you know her name?"

"No… but, um – yeah, I know what she looks like. I have a few photographs, but I don't want to spread these around, Finch, if you know what I mean."

"Ew, John," Sam moaned.

"I will gladly trade places with you, Sam," John said. "There are no real boundaries with this guy."

"Ew!" Sam physically shook off her disgust.

"I'm just looking into the company's listing of employees. Mr. Horace is in the personnel department – "

"How fitting," Sam said.

"He is a supervisor to a small group of people on his floor. There are two women in that group, one is in her early sixties and close to retirement – "

"EW!" Sam shuddered, and quickly calmed down, looking in the other direction once she saw that she was catching the attention of a couple of the night nurses.

"The other is his administrative assistant, Holly Chin. She's been with the company for eight months, and is twenty-eight years old."

Sam leaned back in her seat, folding her arms across her chest, completely fed up with the unfolding situation. The man's daughter is fatally sick, his wife is constantly at her side, while he's busy banging his younger secretary. It was such a cookie cutter type of situation, all wrapped up in a nice package, metaphorically speaking only.

"So, maybe Callie knows about the affair?" John suggested.

"Do you really think her own father would want to kill her because she might tattle on him?" Sam asked slowly, unable to wrap her brain around the idea. "Sure, he's a cheating douche bag, but that's no reason – "

"We have to consider all possibilities, Sam," Finch interrupted.

Sam, still grumpy from her hangover, silently mimicked Finch, shaking her head and contorting her face.

"Check out more on Holly, Finch. She's headed home. It looks like they keep the affair in the office only."

"… ew," Sam said.

In spite of her late evening nap, Sam, having come close to the end of her book, was working overtime trying to keep herself awake. It was early in the morning, the hospital day shift was beginning to arrive, and the corridor was growing busier.

Sam stood up and walked around, trying to keep herself awake. She looked in on Callie, who was still asleep. Sam stayed at the window, just to make sure the little girl was still breathing comfortably. Everything appeared normal, and she moved away from the room and back to her seat.

A nurse passed by, smiling stiffly at her, and went through the door to Callie's room. She changed into a sterile bio suit and entered the room. Sam was on her feet again as the nurse gently touched Callie on her arm, waking the child.

Callie looked up. She smiled at the nurse and immediately began talking to her as the nurse took out a syringe and drew some blood.

Sam sat back down and propped her head up in her hand, her eyelids hanging halfway over her eyes as she watched the nurse. The hangover was gone. Now, she was just tired.

She watched, her eyes glazing over, as the nurse took multiple samples of blood, and labeled each sample. She put them in a plastic bag and headed out of the room. As the nurse was taking off the suit, a blurry white space blocked part of Sam's vision.

Her eyes refocused on the lidded cup that was held in front of her face. She looked up and saw John standing in front of her, a hint of a smile on his face.

"Mrs. Horace is on her way now," he said as Sam took the cup and he sat down.

The cup warmed her hands and the tea tasted hot and wonderful when she took the first sip. "You've saved my life again," she said, holding up the cup.

"You're welcome."

"Where's the husband?"

"He's at home, asleep, but plans to meet Holly Chin for lunch later today."

"That little rat bastard," Sam muttered as she sipped her life giving tea.

John looked at her, his expression thoroughly amused. "You've been fuming about this all night, haven't you? Are you planning to castrate him?"

Sam snorted into her cup. "Well, now that you've got me thinking about it. I have some decently sharp kitchen knives."

A small wince moved across John's features. "Don't you think that's a little cruel?"

"What's cruel is what he's doing to his family that is already falling apart with his sick little girl. He should be here with his wife, the jackass."

"I agree," John said.

Sam felt the undeniable urge to address what happened the evening before. But she couldn't quite think of the words to kick off the subject. Thankfully, Callie, now awake, sat up in her bed and waved to Sam once she noticed her. Sam waved back and stood up. "Come on, the poor thing is probably bored to tears."

Sam and John approached the glass and she pressed the button. "Good morning, Callie."

"Hi Sam."

"How are you feeling?"

"Good. Do you know what the nurse said?"

"What did she say?"

"That if my blood tests come back and they're good, I can be moved out of here!" Callie seemed thoroughly excited at the prospect.

"That's great! Do you know when they'll find out?"

"She said this afternoon," Callie squirmed a little in her bed. "I can't wait! Then maybe you can come into my room and we can play games!"

Sam laughed. She was already planning to keep Sam around. "I'd like that."

"Your brother can come too, if he wants," Callie said graciously, looking at John.

Sam smiled up at him and jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow.

"Yeah, uh, thanks, Callie," John said when Sam pressed the button.

Sam looked past John and saw a woman rushing towards them. "I think your Mom's here. We'll see you later, okay?"

"Okay," Callie said, smiling broadly.

Sam and John walked away from the room, down the corridor, giving Callie and her mother a little privacy.

"This afternoon," Sam said.

"Did you get that, Finch?"

"Yes," Finch replied. "Whoever is after her may wait until she is settled in the new room. Then again, they may not."

"That was helpful as always, Finch," John said, rolling his eyes. "It'll probably be best if we stay here," he continued. "Wherever Callie is will be where the killer is."

"Yay!" Sam said, giving a sarcastic cheer. "Hospital food for us!"