CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
hypoxia
Once Liam Stillson finishes poking and prodding, he injects Iona with pain medication. She’s better able to talk, but only in short spurts. The look on the doctor’s face suggests nothing good.
“I’ll update Wes and see what next steps are,” he says, pulling off his bloodied gloves and hurrying out of my room.
Iona reaches for my arm. “Listen to me. I mentioned I have some fun critters growing in my lab,” she says. “I’m gonna give you the location and passcodes for my place in East Vancouver.”
“Where you grow your salmonella? No, thanks.”
“No, all that’s out in the Fraser Valley. Level-four lab.”
“You have an actual biohazard lab? Here in Canada?”
“Did you think I was growing this stuff in my kitchen? Dinnae interrupt.” She nods toward the door, reminding
