"It's an option," Gwen shrugged. "My mother knows what I worked on and with in Costa Rica, so she won't be surprised. And her house is in a very quiet neighborhood, mostly retirees who tend to keep to themselves or travel a lot."

She ran hands through her disheveled hair and swirled it back into a messy ponytail. "Unless we want to keep her here, that's the only other option I have, Owen. I'm...hesitant to take her back up to our house, simply because I don't have the equipment if she relapses. If she starts hemorrhaging again, we need to be able to get her to a hospital--or here, preferably--within the hour."

Gwen looked up at him, serious. "If you absolutely want to go back up north, then we will. But I can't guarantee much, just now."