So Miriam starts chipping away at the ice block, because it's margarita time, I guess. And the girl is still writhing away on the bed and speaking gibberish and then we cut a couple of times to some sort of red fabric flapping, and then the girl's eyes snap open. "Mother..." she says, and her mom and Miriam are rushing into the room, only the mother looks at her daughter and gasps and drops the bowl of ice chips. Miriam gasps as well, and we see the daughter laid out on the bed like Jesus on the cross: arms spread out, legs together, one foot on top of the other. That in itself probably isn't enough to excuse a loose grip on a perfectly good bowl of ice chips, but when you add in that she appears to be bleeding from her wrists, I guess you can understand her mother's distress. As well, she's saying, over and over, "You don't know me. You don't know me. You don't know me." Opening credits.
There's a young kid smacking a baseball into his glove as he sits beside a woman lying in a hospital bed. She starts to convulse. "Mommy!" he says, and the slow motion starts up, and she reaches for him and says, "Skeet!" but he's taken away by a nun as a doctor and nurse rush in to tend to his mom. As the door to her room swings shut, we hear her monitor flatline.
Skeet wakes up, says, "Mom!" His phone is ringing. He gropes for it. It's Keel, although he doesn't bother to say hello. He just says he got a call from an orderly in a hospital in Pennsylvania, and Skeet's a little unnerved at the mention of the hospital, considering the dream he was just having. Keel asks if Skeet wants to take a trip. A groggy Skeet says okay and asks when Keel wants to meet. "Now. I'm downstairs," he says. Skeet needs to get some caller ID action going on his phone, you know.
Skeet and Keel are walking into Lancaster General Hospital, and I guess Skeet waited through the entire drive until just now to start telling Keel what he knows about stigmata, and says that people with stigmata bleed through the wrists, not the hands, since actual crucifixions weren't done through the hands; they were done through the wrists. I resolve again not to see The Passion of the Christ. (Besides, I've already read the book. Total snoozefest.) Skeet says if the girl is bleeding from the wrists, though, it's a lot more likely to be a suicide attempt than stigmata. Keel says that according to the information he's been given, there are no wounds on her wrists. Skeet says that doesn't make sense. "Real stigmata has real wounds," he says. Oh, okay, that makes sense. "You're the expert," says Keel, and then they barge into this poor girl's room. And...hey, where is Evelyn? Does Keel not even bother inviting her on these excursions anymore? Isn't she part of the team? You know, being sexy could come in handy on one of these trips, and if Evelyn isn't along, what are they going to do?