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What are you doing to me, little witch? Why is your silly name spinning inside my head, driving me insane? Do you know how many times I've been to McGill's, trying to get an answer, a simple yes or no? Why are you making fun of me, Cu-cha-ra-di-ta?
A bright, unpleasant light penetrates her eyelids and the next thing Otilia sees is a plump redhead pulling the curtains. "Good morning! Feeling better today? I'm Eleanor, the sister-in-charge," chirps the redhead, seating herself at the foot of Otilia's bed.
"Good morning," replies Otilia unconvincingly.
"You look so much better today. Let me check your pulse." She grabs Otilia's wrist. There's something crisp and wholesome about her, a bit like that Spice Girl who no longer is a Spice Girl. "Now, let me ask you a few questions. Do you know where we are?"
"Looks like a hospital to me, unless it's a film set or a commercial for private health insurance. Sorry, I didn't mean to be sarcastic."
"What is the last thing you remember?"
"The last thing before what?"