Act II — Chapter 13
13
The locals called it “Pill Hill”. Home to four sprawling hospitals and the state blood bank, First Hill squeezed an entire city’s worth of medical care into one square mile of steeply sloped one-way streets. Beneath jumbled overpasses sat crumbling condominiums and tiny turn-of-the-century houses, with bars on the windows and multiple deadbolts on the front doors. Within many resided the kinds of people who took comfort in living near a state-subsidized methadone dispensary or trauma ward.
A bullet-riddled Lincoln Navigator parked in an unenforced tow-away zone did not look out of place.
“Has the bleeding stopped?” Natalie Rosenbaum asked upon opening her door. She was slightly taller than Tina, but considerably more girthy. She wore a purple UW School of Medicin
