About the book: year / "I'm not going to die." The speaker was about fifty, slightly plump, and well dressed in a dark blue business suit. Her short hair was dyed fiery red. She wore stylish glasses with the designer's logo etched in gold leaf on the arms. She sat in a confessional pose, head bowed, eyes open, but fixed on her clasped hands in her lap. Her face was covered in blood from her racing heart. She said the words quietly, barely above a whisper, but audible enough for Victor to notice. There was a ritual monotony to them, almost trance-like, otherwise the words themselves were designed to induce such a trance and block out the horror of impending death. "I'm not going to die».