Chapter Twenty-ThreeThe Harder They Die
Startled out of my gourd, I had to suck up my fear. I said in as calm a voice as I could muster, “Why do you want to kill me so bad, Mrs. Woodbine?” It was said that if you kept the bad person who wanted to do you harm talking, maybe you could buy time and get out of the jam you were in, and someone would come along and clobber them. I thought it was worth a shot in this situation.
Mrs. Woodbine had somehow managed to purloin a nurse's uniform down to the name tag declaring she was a LPN. I was certain she had been wearing the same flimsy blue-green gown as me, but now she was dressed in a matching set of lavender scrubs. My knowing kicked in and gave me fragments of how she'd escaped her room. Mrs. Woodbine pretended to be asleep. The nurse came i
