The drip of saline solution sounded like gunshots. She winced every time a drop plunked into her IV, wrestling with her arm restraints to try and flee. They were too tight; escape was impossible.

The click of the opening door was like a car bomb going off, each approaching footfall a sledgehammer. After a few year-long seconds, they stopped next to her bed. "Good morning," a man's voice said. "I'm glad to see you're awake. We have things to discuss."

He paced to a seat across from her bed-bound position, taking note of each crease in her eyes when they slammed shut. "Am I being too loud?" His footfalls became softer and softer until the creases in her eyes disappeared.

She heard the folds of his suit rustle as he sat down and clasped his hands together in front of him. "You've been in a terrible accident. But, I'm sure you already knew that." He checked his watch for three ticks of its gears. "Don't worry about how I found you. It would take too long to explain, and I want to keep this brief. What's important is that I have the means to give you a second chance. I can send you to right before this happened. Back in time."

Her pained silence unnerved him, but he continued. "No nurse or medical professional has been in this room for two days. Looking at your hospital file, you've received a do not resuscitate order. Why is not public record, but what matters is that, without my help, you will die in this room, starved and alone."

She turned her head towards him. The scream of the burns on her neck were like fingernails on a chalkboard, begging her to stop. She ignored them.

"That's not what you want, is it?" He unfolded his hands and placed each on an armrest. "Let me be clear: I am not doing this out of charity. In exchange for your second chance, you will help me figure something out."

He reached into his suit pocket and unfolded a small paper. "Most of the text on this document has been struck out. There are two fields left visible: your name and the phrase 'kill order'."

Her heart slammed against the walls of her ribcage like a battering ram. The man looked up at the increasing numbers on the monitor. "Please, calm down. No cardiac arrest. Do not resuscitate, remember?" He set the document on her bedside. "You were set up. Someone wanted you dead, and I'm sure you want to know who. I want to know, too."

He knelt down. "Whoever set you up must have something to hide. Something you could have exposed if you were alive. I want to know who did it and what they're hiding. It doesn't matter why I want to know; what matters is that you have a second chance to survive."

He reached into his suit coat and pulled out two small bracelets. "I know you have no reason to trust me. If you're not interested in my offer, turn your head away and enjoy being a vegetable for the short rest of your life But if you want to take a risk for your survival and agree to do as I ask, follow my next instructions very carefully: recall the accident."

Her eyelids wafted shut like falling paper. As soon as they closed, it all flooded over her like baptismal water over a newborn. She could feel the heat on her skin. Shrapnel was buried in her chest, in her arms, in her legs. She could hear herself scream, trying to escape the wreckage.

He looked up at the computer monitor and heard the beeps get faster. "Good." He attached the bracelets to her wrists, locked them tightly, and switched them on. They hummed with a dim, blue glow. "You are about to die."

The beeps were even faster now. "Once you are dead, you will immediately wake up two weeks ago, about fifteen minutes before you entered your car, turned on the ignition, and blew up. As soon as you wake up, hail a taxi and go straight home. Do not go near your car."

Almost a solid tone now. "Carpool to work the next day. I'll be waiting in your office. Do not let your guard down for even a second. Consider everyone a threat."

Flatline.

He stood up from beside her corpse and straightened his sleeves. He smiled. "I'll see you two weeks ago."