Page 82 of The Harmless Series

Jane punches him.

“And I saw the gold foil box. Let me guess. Maple creams?”

He remembers.

I offer him the box. He takes one and grins. “These were always your favorite.”

“Still are. Haven’t had any in four years.”

Guilt covers Jane and Drew’s faces like a dark blanket.

“It’s okay. I can talk about it. It’s not your fault.”

Before either one of them can answer, a new nurse comes in.

“Your paperwork’s been processed faster than expected, Lindsay.”

Bzzz.

Drew’s phone. He answers it, eyes going cold.

Uh oh.

I listen to the nurse prattle on, my body on alert for Drew. He gets off the phone just as the nurse hands me a bunch of papers and says, “Recover well.”

She leaves. I look at Drew.

“Who was that?”

“Your dad and mother. They’re on a helicopter to a plane back to D.C. Some big meeting.”

“Right.” D.C. before dear daughter. I’m used to it.

“You can’t be alone, Lindsay,” Jane says.

“Have you seen my house?’ I joke. “There are a bazillion workers there. I’m hardly alone.”

“And I’ll be with you,” Drew adds.

Something has changed, though. He keeps giving me these side-eye glances. It’s creeping me out. Who was on the other end of that phone call? I don’t think it was just about Mom and Daddy.

I move the covers so I can crawl out of bed. Jane picks a small bag and holds it, while Drew helps me up.

“I’m fine.”

“You want to shower before we go?” he asks.

“No. I don’t care. I just want to go home and get away from here.”

He nods. “Safer at the Grove, too.”

I give him a sharp look. My knees hurt, and I can tell I have bruises everywhere, especially on my head. But step by step, I shuffle into the bathroom, wearing only a hospital gown. Someone undressed me, washed my wounds, and put me in that bed.

My fingers shake as I untie the hospital gown, but I manage. I’m wearing my bra and panties. With stiff legs, I get my feet in my pants and pull them up. Putting on my shirt is harder, but I do it, even when my neck pinches and my head throbs. I get myself presentable, consciously avoiding looking in the mirror.

Why torture myself?

Fully dressed, I shuffle out. Instantly, Drew’s at my side, holding my elbow like I’m some ninety-year-old lady crossing the street and he’s a Cub Scout helping me.

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