Page 53 of Black Hearts

“And he was one of those lucky ones,” I whispered. My hands were shaking. Why hadn’t the police said anything when I told them my story about West? They hadn’t given any sort of impression that they thought I might be making things up.

I guess lies didn’t always smooth everything over, no matter the intention.

Samara nodded. “Uh-huh. Some farmer found him on the edge of a road way out of the city. He thought he was dead, but then he realized he had a pulse. Long story short, he was in a coma for a couple of weeks, and he woke up a few days ago. The doctors are saying it’s an absolute miracle. He’s going to be fine, apart from the scar and the memory loss.”

My heart skipped a beat. “Memory loss?”

Her lips tightened. “That’s what I meant when I said he’d be happy to learn what he did for you. He has no idea. It’s so sad. Apparently the hippo-something was damaged when he was shot.”

“Hippocampus?” Alex interjected.

Samara nodded again. “Yes, that. It’s horrible. I mean, he’s lucky to be alive, of course, but apparently he lost all his memories from the last two or three years. I went to visit him, because I heard what happened when I tried calling him to see how he was going in the search for you. Anyway, he had no idea who I was. His wife explained what happened. He’ll be able to make new memories for the most part, but the last few years are a blank slate.”

“I see,” I murmured. “At least he’s going to be okay, though.”

“I know, right? As horrible as it sounds, I’m so glad you saw what happened. Now everyone will know he actually found you, and what a hero he was for trying to get you all out of that awful place.”

That’s the plan,I thought, my pulse steadying as I took several deep, calming breaths.

“I still can’t believe you’re really home,” Samara said breathily a moment later, shaking her head as she looked down at me. “You’re going to be okay, right?”

I smiled and nodded. “Yeah. I’m gonna be okay.”

* * *

Samara wasn’tmy only visitor that day. Cora Rossi came to see me as well, with a bag of homemade choc-chip cookies. A couple of hours after she left, I had yet another guest in my room; this one decidedly less welcome than my friend and neighbor.

There was a sharp rap on the door, and I looked up to see SAC Leonard Foley standing on the threshold. I swallowed hard and nodded for him to come in. As usual, he was wearing a grouchy, sour expression. He stood by my bed, coolly assessing me. One foot kept jiggling on the floor, and I realized he was somewhat nervous.

“Good to see you, Celeste,” he finally said.

“You too, sir,” I replied politely, still unsure why he was here.

He rubbed his chin. “I wanted to say a few things to you. Firstly, I….” He cleared his throat. “I wanted to apologize.”

“For what?” I raised my eyebrows. An apology from Foley was rarer than hen’s teeth.

“I didn’t treat you well when you worked at the field office. I knew your father when he was alive, and to be frank, I couldn’t stand the man. Now I know I was right not to like him, considering what he was involved with, but I shouldn’t have let my feelings toward him affect the way I treated you. I was unfair. I thought the office wasn’t the right place for you, but you did a great job. There’s a reason you were the first pick, as much as I didn’t want to admit it before now.”

I shook my head slowly. “Dwyer said Bryce was the first pick. He said I was only chosen for the internship because he wanted to keep more of an eye on me.”

Foley’s nose wrinkled. “I suspect he only told you that to wear you down, the damn snake. You were the first pick for the internship. Bryce was the runner-up.”

“Oh.”

“I know you probably don’t want to come back after everything that’s happened, but if you ever do, there’s always a place for you.”

“Thank you,” I murmured.

He was silent for a moment. Then he cleared his throat and spoke up again. “I understand you told the police that Jason West found you a few weeks ago, and that’s why he was shot.”

I gulped. “Yes.”

He nodded. “Right. Unfortunately we have no idea how he found you or the Circle, because his memory is gone, and he wasn’t meant to be looking for you, so he didn’t leave any sort of notes or trail that will help us. I suppose that’s largely my fault too.”

I shook my head. “No, I get it. It’s fine.”

I understood why Foley had told West to stop searching for me. It wasn’t out of coldness. It simply wasn’t West’s assignment at the time, and Foley—like the police and others—assumed I’d run away. Given the pain I was in at the time, it wasn’t surprising that people might think that about me. I didn’t blame them, and I wasn’t angry.

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