As Marissa stared down at the stricken man, she didn’t know what to do; yet she self-consciously felt obliged to do something, with Dr. Navarre hanging over her, watching her every move. “How do you feel?” asked Marissa. She knew it was a stupid, self-evident question the moment it escaped from her lips. Nonetheless Richter’s eyes fluttered open. Marissa noticed some hemorrhages in the whites.
“Not good,” admitted Dr. Richter, his voice a hoarse whisper.
“Is it true you were in Africa a month ago?” she asked. She had to lean over to hear the man, and her heart went out to him.
“Six weeks ago,” said Dr. Richter.
“Did you come in contact with any animals?” asked Marissa.
“No,” managed Dr. Richter after a pause. “I saw a lot but didn’t handle any.”
“Did you attend anyone who was ill?”