A startled young face whips around to look at the person the voice's attached to. "Melka!"
"You know I hate that nickname." Andrea approached her, a smile in place.
"And you know that I couldn't care less." A slight squeal escapes her lips, and she throws her arms over the taller girl's shoulders, hanging on for dear life.
"God, I've missed you." The agent sounds almost wistful.
"Same applies, trust me." Lucy steps back for a moment, dusting her hands on her front.
Standing in front of Andrea is what appears to be a fourteen-year-old girl. In reality, she's only twelve. Before the accident, though, she was twenty two. Lucy Morrow was a doctor at the Agency who got stuck with the wrong patient.
The patient was known as Zero, and was transformed into a time vortex after encountering what was apparently alien life. Zero was sent to the Infirmary after being injured - a long gash down the side of his leg.
Lucy had been treating him when something apparently triggered a small device planted on his side - which was realized too late. His entire body combusted into a tiny time vortex, disappearing to who-knows-where soon after it was created.
Unfortunately, Lucy was near enough that there were some side effects. She was turned into a ten-year-old.
She had all of the memories that she had before, including her knowledge. She was a medical genius, like she had been before. When the Agency realized this, they installed her in a hospital in London - St Bartholomew's Hospital. Or Barts, for short.
She was kept secret by the Agency, and she worked with the part of Barts that the public didn't even know existed - a place for agents. Agents in comas, severe injuries, deadly diseases, etc. People who had worked for the Agency and gotten hurt.
When somebody told an agent that they were going to New Haven, they knew they were in trouble. 'New Haven' was the codename used for that secret part of Barts.
Lucy Morrow used to be the only person in the Infirmary who could keep Andrea there. And now she was gone. The Infirmary medics called Andrea a menace. They didn't get along.
But the doctor was standing in front of her now, plastic gloves on hands, pink silk pajama pants, white tank top, gray robe and all.
That's how Andrea knew to look around. Prone bodies lay all around the room, no movement except for grimaces or twitches. Coma ward. She winces.
That would explain why there's a robe but not a white coat on Lucy, although the ever-present plastic gloves are there.
But she doesn't care.