Dianna Ochoa did not see herself as a particularly righteous person just like she didn’t see herself as particularly attractive. Neither was she particularly smart. No, if Dianna had a trait that made her exceptional, it was her patience. She had to be patient. She taught elementary school, not to mention being a single mother of two, now in their teens. Her life was filled with a never-ending stream of small irritants and petty obstacles which meant that she had many, many opportunities to practice and perfect that particular quality.

Despite this, Dianna was getting restless. When the incident, whatever it had been, happened in the courtyard, she had politely asked questions and sat on her hands, confident that the situation would be handled appropriately. The fact that one of the students, Tara Greenly, had been injured in the accident was regrettable, but she had talked to the girl’s teachers and they all seemed confident that she would make a full recovery.

That was a week ago. The girl had yet to return to class.

Dianna wasn’t quite sure why the incident had grabbed her attention, but now her curiosity was piqued and her feminine intuition was tingling. She had been working herself up to go visit the girl herself, something that she had no place doing since the two of them had never met, when the construction had started on the courtyard. That had soothed her enough that her innate patience kicked in; whatever had happened, something was obviously being done to correct the situation. She returned to sitting on her proverbial hands.

The day after the construction in the courtyard had finished Tara had returned to class seemingly no worse for wear – by all accounts a happy outcome. Yet Dianna couldn’t dispel the niggling feeling that something wasn’t quite right. Tara should have shown some sign of her injuries, right? Where was the cast for her broken bones, or even the bruising from whatever accident she’d endured? Dianna could attest that the girl was completely uninjured – right as rain, as her mother would say. But how was that possible?

Dianna decided to keep an eye on the girl. It made her feel a little paranoid, but she persisted regardless. For the next few days, she went out of her way to check up on Tara covertly, making the time to detour around the halls so she would pass the girl, talking with her teachers to find out how she was doing, even following her activities after the school day. She seemed to be back to normal in every respect. The only thing odd was that the girl had not yet been allowed to resume meditation practice with the rest of the children in the courtyard. That fact stuck out to Dianna, especially since a great deal of emphasis was placed on it by the administration.

No, instead Tara had been diverted into doing gymnastics while the other kids were practicing meditation. It seemed a little odd, but Dianna had gone by the gym and observed her at practice, just to make sure that’s what was actually happening. She had watched for nearly twenty minutes. The practice seemed to focus on her poise and posture, something Dianna certainly couldn’t fault.

Content that she had done everything that was reasonable to reassure herself, Dianna let it go. There had been an accident but no harm had come of it and the owner had undertaken the expense to fix the problem in near-record time. There was nothing to point a finger at.

That lasted for all of four days.

It was not particularly noteworthy for a student to miss class due to illness, though Dianna had noted the relative lack of such absences at this school; she credited it to the student’s isolation on the island. So when Ryan Bauchman had failed to show up for class, Dianna noticed but didn’t worry. A polite inquiry had revealed that he had indeed fallen ill. She thought nothing more of it.

At least, she didn’t until the next day when six more students were also absent. None were in her class, but gossiping about students was a great past time among teachers, so Dianna found out about the absences in due course. She made note of the increase but still felt it fell well short of ‘alarming’. Kids shared germs all the time; it was natural for others to get sick as well.

When Ryan failed to return to class the next day she made it a point of asking around. None of the sick children had returned and, worse, there was another group of students who had failed to come to class. After a moment’s hesitation, Dianna decided that she would go visit Ryan after the end of the school day. Unlike Tara, Ryan was her student so there was nothing untoward with going to check in on him. She endured the rest of the day, forcing her mind to focus on the tasks in front of her, yet she couldn’t deny the worry bubbling in the back of her mind.

She stoically clung to decorum, waiting until the school was empty of students, more or less, before she quickly packed up her things and made her way to the dorms. Finding Ryan’s room was simplicity itself – his information, including which dorm he was in, was all in his school records. Despite the information being readily available, she felt slightly out of place as she pushed open the doors into the dorm. It had been made clear during the interview that, while the school and the orphanage were connected, school faculty wasn’t to intrude on the student’s ‘home life’. She pushed on nevertheless, resolute. She’d even brought some homework for Ryan to do so he didn’t fall behind in class.

The lobby of the dorm lived up to Dianna’s expectations. Everything she’d seen on campus so far had been functional yet filled with understated style, a minimalist leaning that still somehow transcended the bland institutional feeling most such places had. This space was a great example of that, with polished floors of some bright wood and walls just off-white enough to make them feel warm and welcoming. The stairs added to the character of the space, a double-wide free-standing spiral with polished dark wood handrails. To her right was a built-in reception desk where an elderly, if still fair-haired, woman sat.

“Can I help you?” she asked politely.

“I’m Dianna Ochoa, Ryan Bauchman’s teacher. I’m just coming to check on him. He’s missed several days of class.” Dianna’s reply was as casual as she could make it but her heart palpitated slightly, though she couldn’t pin down the reason for her anxiety. She was convinced that her presence in the dorm wasn’t unreasonable.

“That’s great,” said the elderly woman. “He’s on the second floor, room three. Feel free to go up. One of the floor nannies will let you in. You can take the stairs up or there’s an elevator just around the corner behind me.”

“Thanks,” replied Dianna, making for the stairs. She couldn’t deny the small smile of pleasure as she climbed the stair. They were like something out of a fancy novel of days gone by, their open design making one feel as if they were ascending through the air with only the flimsiest of support. Despite her enjoyment of the experience she didn’t dally, making her way briskly upwards.

On the second floor, there was another desk in the same relative space as the one on the first floor, though this one was currently unoccupied. With only a brief hesitation she turned and headed down the hall, her heels clicking loudly in the still-deserted dorm. Each door was clearly marked, so it took her only a moment to find the appropriate room. Not wanting to give the appearance of skulking, Dianna knocked briskly on the door, the sound of her knuckles on the wood resounding rather alarmingly. She winced and decided that she might have knocked rather harder than was necessary.

A few moments passed with no response and Dianna wondered precisely what she was waiting for. Did she expect Ryan to come to the door? Was there an adult with him? She had no idea. Luckily the answer came readily when the door to his room opened and a man in a white lab coat filled it.

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“Ma’am,” he said politely, “How can I help you?”

The man’s presence alarmed Dianna. He was obviously one of the men who tended to drift around the campus, seemingly without purpose, despite being, ostensibly, employed by the orphanage. She had encountered them a number of times and they were always unfailingly polite, yet Dianna could never figure out just why they were there. When the school year had first started their presence had bothered her but since they had never caused any issues and always lent a helping hand when asked, she had dismissed their presence as a quirk. Zhao Gang tended to throw money around, after all. If he wanted to employ a bunch of his countrymen without giving them jobs, who was she to complain? Now, however, one was in her student’s room and, by his clothing, playing doctor.

“Yes,” she replied, hoping to cover up her brief moment of surprise. “I’m Ryan’s teacher. I was just hoping to visit him, see how he was doing.”

“Ah, of course, please come in.” The man stepped aside graciously, holding the door and waving her in.

As she entered the room she took a brief look around, pleased by what she saw. The room, obviously a living room or similar space, was bright and well furnished with age-appropriate furniture and thick carpet. There was no TV, which was slightly odd, but there was a bookcase filled with books, a couch, several shelves with a collection of toys, and a child-size table. If she hadn’t been familiar with the school and their profligate spending, she would have immediately assumed the room was shared between multiple children.

“He’s in here,” he said, leading the way to the bedroom.

“I’m sorry,” said Dianna, not following. Now that the door to the hall was closed her discomfort with the situation was quickly rising. “I don’t believe you’ve introduced yourself yet.”

“My apologies,” said the man. “I’m Jiang Han. I’ve been tasked with caring for young Ryan and the other children while they recover. Have no fear, they will all recover in due time.” The man, Han, seemed remarkably confident of that. Dianna couldn’t help but wonder at whether he had the credentials to offer such an authoritative answer.

“You’re a doctor?” asked Dianna.

“Yes ma’am,” he replied serenely. Dianna just nodded while making a mental note to investigate whether he was licensed later. With no other reason to delay she followed Dr. Jiang into Ryan’s bedroom.

The tableau that greeted her immediately drew her up short. Ryan lay in his bed, by all appearances sleeping peacefully. Arrayed around him was a selection of medical devices, all of which were immediately identifiable to anyone who had ever been in the hospital. A heart monitor labored dutifully, though silently, off to one side, while an IV stand held pride of place next to the headboard. An obvious patient file, presumably Ryan’s, was set neatly on the nightstand.

To Dianna, it all added up to one conclusion – Ryan was seriously sick. If he wasn’t, why would he need an IV? Why would he be on a heart monitor? No, there must be something seriously wrong else they wouldn’t go to all this trouble.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” said Dianna unsteadily from the doorway, “What’s his diagnosis?”

The doctor, Han, paused for a moment before replying. “Physically there is nothing wrong with him. He’s just sleeping. The only reason he’s on the IV and monitor is that he’s been sleeping for several days.”

“Nothing wrong with him?” asked Dianna incredulously. “How can you say there isn’t anything wrong with him if he’s been asleep for several days? That’s a coma! What kind of doctor are you anyway?”

“He is not in a coma, I assure you,” replied Han. “Come let me show you.” He walked over and picked up Ryan’s hand, lifting it over his face. Without the slightest hesitation, he released the hand, letting it fall limply. Despite its positioning, it avoided landing on Ryan’s face.

“You see? If he was in a coma his hand would have naturally landed on his face, his mind completely divorced from what happened to his body. Since that is obviously not the case the only explanation is that he isn’t in a coma. Hence why I say he is sleeping. We have run an EEG and his brain activity looks normal. In essence, he is fine, simply sleeping. He will wake in a few days. Until then we will sustain him with the IV.”

The doctor’s nonchalant attitude towards Ryan’s condition infuriated Dianna, but she restrained herself. After taking a moment to sit by Ryan’s bedside she excused herself. Jiang Han, she couldn’t bring herself to think of him as ‘Dr. Jiang’, walked her politely to the door. Once the door was closed she pulled out her phone and did a quick search. As she suspected, it was possible to look up license information on the internet. A few minutes tapping at her phone while standing awkwardly in the hallway brought up the relevant information – Jiang Han was, indeed, licensed as a medical doctor in Washington State. Slightly mollified, Dianna considered her next course of action.

Despite seeing that Ryan was being cared for, her brain was itching with a need to know what was going on. Unable to simply let things lie, she decided to visit other students who had also missed class. She steeled herself and looked behind the counter of the desk in the second-floor lobby, quickly searching out anything that would tell her where other students were located. It only took a moment to find a clipboard that listed the students and their rooms. The one she was looking for was on the fourth floor.

When she arrived she found one of the floor nannies sitting in with him. The woman, a gorgeous girl in her early twenties, welcomed Dianna warmly and invited her to sit at the boy’s beside but Dianna demurred as soon as she saw the boy in the same state as Ryan. Offering an excuse, she quickly saw herself out.

She visited three more students who had missed class, finding them all in a similar condition, each with a person watching over them, though none of the others had a doctor in the room when she arrived. Dianna was conflicted. It was obvious by the condition of the children that there was a serious illness spreading through the school. While steps had been taken to provide the appropriate medical care, all of the people providing that care were remarkably blasé about their condition, not showing a hint of doubt over their eventual recovery.

Worse, not one had offered even a hint of knowing what the illness was or why it was affecting all the children in such an odd manner. While one might be tired while sick, waking that person up, at least long enough to eat and drink, shouldn’t be a problem. But from what she’d gathered, not one of these children had awoken since they’d fallen ill! Obviously, this was more than a simple cold.

Thoroughly disturbed, Dianna made her way to a nearby bathroom and washed her hands thoroughly before gathering her things and going home. As much as she would like to stay and figure out exactly what was happening, she had two children waiting for her. Not sure what else to do, she made dinner mechanically.

That night she lay in bed, unable to put the issue out of her mind. Tomorrow was Friday. If she didn’t do anything tomorrow, she would have to wait until the following week to follow up. That was two days where things could potentially escalate. While she wasn’t directly responsible, she didn’t feel she could ignore the situation. Something was going on, something that was affecting the children she was responsible for. If she didn’t do something, who would?

Unable to come to a firm resolution, she got up and dedicated much of her night to investigating the illness online. She considered and discarded a dozen possibilities; each had symptoms other than simply being in a coma-like state. She also visited the Department of Health website, thinking maybe they would have an outbreak alert or information on a new illness. The effort turned up nothing. Exhausted, she finally gave up and climbed into bed, drifting off into a fitful sleep.

The next morning didn’t ease her fears. Three more students from her class, along with numerous students from other classes, also fell ill. The anxiety that had been festering in her heart, and kept her up much of the previous night, crystallized into real fear as she looked at her much-depleted class. She fought with the fear for a long moment before coming to a firm conclusion – she had to report this. The resolution calmed her, allowing her to get through her morning class with only minimal disruptions.

After dismissing her students to lunch, she went to an empty classroom and picked up the phone. After only a brief hesitation, she punched in the number for the Department of Health. It rang once before the answering system picked up. She dutifully followed the prompts before being put on hold. She nervously checked her watch. No matter what, she couldn’t be late returning to her class.

After nearly ten minutes on hold, someone finally picked up on the other end. Without waiting for an introduction, she started talking. “I’m calling because there seems to be an illness spreading at the school on Hat Island. I’ve spoken with their doctor and he seemed to dismiss my concerns without due consideration. The only symptom is that they won’t wake up. The doctor says they aren’t in a coma but…”