Page 25 of The Last Session

“Yeah, no, this is going to be a whole thing. He’s got some addiction issues.” He zipped his coat and something in my chest wilted. I wanted to wail, to force him to stay. We didn’t even have to have sex; couldn’t he just hold me for a few minutes?

“Do you want my number?” I asked when he reached the door.

“Oh. Sure.” He typed it in, but I knew he wasn’t going to call. I’d just been a distraction, someone to waste time with.

“Night.” He waved. “Thanks for the beer.”

After he was gone, I downed both of them, one after the other, in defiance of something. As if it would hurt him instead of me.

13

“Thea?”

Someone was shaking me. I opened my eyes to see Dom.

“You didn’t make it to bed, huh?” She glanced at the two empty beer cans.

“No.” My head pounded like I was slamming it against the wall. I pulled myself up into a seated position. The movement activated my stomach, which started to churn.

“Ho-ly shit.” Dom straightened. “You got crunk last night, huh?” She chuckled and went to the kitchen.

“You could say that.” I watched her through slitted eyes. She was wearing the same clothes as the night before but seemed clean and chipper. “You seem… not hungover.”

“Oh, I am.” She handed me a large glass of water. “Amelia and I went back to her place and drank tequila, for some reason. What happened with that guy?”

I took a tiny sip and leaned back against the cushions. “He claimed to have a family emergency and left.” Memories of the night poured in, and I remembered with a twist of guilt how I’d spilled information about Catherine to try to get him to stay. Sure, the public knew she was at the hospital, but I shouldn’t have shared details. I never would have, sober.

“That’s too bad.” She stood. “I’m going to bed. Thank God my first client isn’t until four.”

“What time is it?” I jolted up.

“Nine thirty.”

“What?”I grabbed my phone off the coffee table; it was dead, so the alarm hadn’t gone off. I stood, groaned, and sat down again. “Oh my god, I feel like shit.”

“Take it easy.” Dom paused in her doorway. “Can’t you just call in sick?”

“Catherine’s parents are coming this morning. I have to see her before she leaves.” Staggering to the bathroom, I turned on the shower and stepped into the hot, stinging water.

I got ready in record time and hurried to the subway. On the way I convinced myself that she’d still be there, that surely Catherine and her parents would have to spend time coordinating with Diane before they left.

A police car waited outside the entrance, which sent a cold chill over my shoulders.

Something bad had happened.

I raced into the lobby, wincing at my throbbing headache. No police here, which meant they must be inside.

“What’s going on?” I called to Hazel.

She paused in her texting. “You’d better talk to Diane.”

Diane’s door was closed, but through the window I could see her leaning forward, intent on the couple across from her. From his bright red hair and her blond, it was clear who they were.

Killian and Lissette O’Brien. Catherine’s parents.

Two officers stood next to them. One was talking to Diane, whose lips pressed together.

Ohno.

---