I turned to where the cry had come from, and I saw Greta—sprawled out on the grass right under my window.

I walked slowly toward her, expecting the hallucination to fade as I approached. Instead, she came more into focus. She looked at me with startled eyes and attempted to back away but stumbled, her arms flailing about in a desperate attempt to grab hold of something to keep her balance.

“Greta,” I said despite myself. I rushed over to her, but not before she fell, hitting her head on the side of the workshop in the process.

“Greta, are you all right?” I knelt before her. She murmured as if she were talking in her sleep but made no attempt to get up.

“Greta?” I reached out but was afraid to touch her - she looked so fragile. “Are you hurt?”

Her eyes opened halfway. “She tried to poison us,” she uttered.

“She tried to poison you? Who?”

She put her hands on her belly and tried to sit up. Then she winced and put a hand on the back of her head. “Oh.”

“Here, let me help you up.” I slipped a hand under her back and lifted. Instead of trying to sit up, she rolled her head onto my shoulder and groaned.

“I’ve got you, Greta.” I slipped my other hand under her legs and lifted her up. “Let’s get you inside. We’ll put something cold on your bump and get you sorted.”

I carried her back into the workshop.

Metal cages lined one of the walls with dumbbells, barbells, and weights cluttering the corner. A mattress by the other wall - the wall made up to look like a gingerbread house - with an LED lamp and camera mounted on a tripod both pointing down on it.

Jake, this has to be the worst place to bring a girl.

I set her down on the mattress and propped a pillow behind her head. “Let me get a cold bottle from the fridge to put on that bump.” I hurried across the room to the mini-fridge and pulled out a bottle of juice. “I don’t have ice. This will have to do.”

When I turned back around, Greta was sitting up, eyes wide open looking from the wall to the camera and light. “Oh, my God. Where am I?”

I rushed over to her, got on my knees, and held the bottle of juice out to her. “Here you go, Greta. That’s the coldest thing I’ve got. Put it on the bump on your head.”

She didn’t take the bottle. Instead, she scooted away from me and looked at me with frightened eyes. “How do you know my name? Who are you? Where am I?”

I set the bottle on the mattress beside her and stepped back. “I’m sorry.” I motioned to the camera and LED lamp. “I wasn’t expecting company.”

I took a seat on the floor clear across the room from her. “Are you OK? You said someone was trying to poison you.”

She put a hand on her belly and looked down as if she’d forgotten feeling upset and was trying to remember. Then she looked at me then at the door across the room from me. “Betty,” she said. “She works at the lodge. She tried to poison me and my brother.” She put a hand to her mouth. “Oh, God! Hans.”

I stood up. “That doesn’t make any sense. Betty wouldn’t poison you.”

“You know her?”

I nodded.

“How?”

I shrugged. “Everybody in Perth knows Betty. She’s the town gossip. But she’s no poisoner.”

Greta fixed me with suspicious eyes and a furrowed brow. She sat up on the edge of the mattress, her body turned toward the door. But at least she had taken the bottle and was holding it against the back of her head.

“You’re not feeling right? Do you need a doctor?”

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out. “Hans. Are you OK?”

If I made any movement, I felt she would bolt for the door. So, I stood there like a statue, not knowing what to do with my hands, looking down at the cages wishing I’d thought to keep them outside at least.

“Thank goodness. I was worried about you,” she said. “Because I thought Betty had tried to poison us.”

I could hear Hans laugh from the other end of the line.

“Yeah, I had a good walk.” She glanced at me out of the corner of my eyes. “Listen, Hans. I’m at the petting zoo. I’m not alone.” Again, she glanced nervously at me.

“That guy we saw at the lookout this afternoon… Yeah. I know… I can’t talk now.… No… No… OK…. OK. Bye.”

She hung up and turned to me.

“Is Hans OK?” I asked.

She nodded and kept her eyes locked on mine while she put her phone back in her pocket. “He’s on his way.”

“Good.” I nodded. “And how are you feeling? Better?”

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