Anna came down the aisle and slowly neared the kneeler. She stood in front of it, the chain of her rosary beads dangling near Matt’s ear. Her pleasant, powdery scent brought a spontaneous smile to his lips. He squelched it, relieved she hadn’t seen, and also confused by the distraction when he had work to do.

Anna knelt, an apparent signal for the rest of them to follow suit, and continued to lead the prayer recitation. On his knees, hard stone against bony kneecaps, all Matt’s muscles tensed for action. Anna’s right elbow rested on the front railing of the kneeler, inches to his left. Her three-quarter length sleeves left her exposed forearm a perfect target.

Mid-sentence, Anna’s prayer ended. Matt glanced left. Her eyes were upturned and fixed on a point on the far wall. He registered the transformation of her features, glowing angelic. He opened his bag and slipped out an alcohol wipe and the first needle.

Matt shuffled sideways on his knees pulling his doctor bag along the floor in front of him. Ecstasy radiated from Anna’s features and it made Matt hesitate, breathless, wishing for a split-second that he had put that expression on her face. Such joy. Like she emanated pure love. Focus. He’d process his conflicting response to her later.

Matt swallowed his guilt, swiped the antiseptic down Anna’s forearm using his left hand and sunk the needle in her flesh with his right, exerting minimum pressure while he watched her face. No reaction. He dotted the piercing along her arm. Nothing. He pulled a lancet from his bag and snagged her right thumb, angled back from her prayer-clasped hands. He jabbed it a couple times, squinting his eyes, his gaze riveted on her face. No reaction other than a few droplets of blood. Maybe a larger gauge needle.

Stirrings began behind him. He was running out of time.