Page 62 of So Bleak

She understood that look all too well. They couldn’t really sympathize with someone who would do what Tyler had done.

But they could understand the pain of someone who had lost a father. After all, the line between sanity and insanity was thin indeed.

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

Faith offered the woman a cup of coffee and a smile. She took both without responding.

“I’d ask how you’re feeling, but I’m pretty sure I know the answer.”

The woman chuckled. “Yeah. I mean, I’m alive, so that’s good. I guess I should consider myself lucky.”

“I don’t know if lucky is the word I’d use,” Faith admitted, “but I’m sure glad we got to you when we did.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

They fell silent a moment. The woman stared at her coffee, clutching it so tightly Faith feared that she would crush it and scald herself.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

The woman inhaled sharply. When she exhaled, she relaxed a little. “Gina. Gina Torres.”

“Torres? Sounds familiar.”

“I have a YouTube channel. I review food places.”

“Ah. Gotcha.”

“Do you watch it?”

“No. Sorry.”

Gina smiled slightly. “You don’t need to apologize. It’s more for younger people.” Her eyes widened. “Oh God. I didn’t mean that. I don’t mean you’re old, I mean… like teenagers and kids.”

“It’s okay,” Faith said. “I knew what you meant.”

She actually hadn’t known what Gina meant, and she was still pretty sure Gina didn’t mean it as much as she acted she did, but considering the woman had been moments away from a horrible death less than ten minutes ago, she didn’t hold it against her.

The door to the police cruiser in which Tyler Grant sat slammed shut. Gina shivered as she watched it speed away. “What’s going to happen to him?”

“He’ll be booked for multiple murders, kidnapping, assault with a deadly weapon, and probably some obscure stuff related to poisoning and delivering packages under false pretenses. You'll never see him again. Not unless you want to testify against him in person."

Gina shivered again and shook her head. “No, I think I’d rather never see him again.”

“I don’t blame you,” Faith replied. “I wouldn’t want to see him again either.”

Gina looked down at her coffee cup. Then, as though finally realizing what it was for, she took a hearty sip. “Careful,” Faith warned. “It’s hot.”

“That’s okay. I like it hot.” She took another sip, then said, “What was he so upset about? Something to do with his father?”

“I guess so,” Faith replied. “I don’t know the story. Michael—that’s my partner—he might know more.”

Turk trotted over and laid his head on Gina’s lap. She grinned—the first real smile she had showed—and started scratching him behind his ears. Turk’s eyes narrowed, and he sighed in clear satisfaction.

“Good dog,” Gina said affectionately.

“He is,” Faith agreed. “He’s a very good dog.”

Gina looked up at Faith. “I don’t mean to hurt anyone’s feelings. I mean, sometimes I give bad reviews, but I’m not trying to make anyone angry. I’m just trying to be honest. Sometimes the food’s really bad. It’s nothing personal.”

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