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Aria turns to me. "I don't want to put your life on hold."
"This is what we do, sweetheart. It's only different this time because we know you. Just rest and let us take care of everything. I don’t want you to worry or stress about anything."
A nod of heads surrounds the table.
"I'll come with you both to any appointments you have." Clay hands me his diary. "Just put everything in here for me."
"The press haven't got a hold of this yet. We hope the police keep Aria's name out of it. We don't want this prick to know about the ba..." Chris runs his finger over his temple, looking uncomfortable.
"It's okay, Chris. You can say it. I don’t want you all to watch what you say around me. I’m not as fragile as I look. I can handle it, trust me."
Chris looks at me and says, "We don't want this asshole to find out about the baby. By the sounds of it, he has a big thing for Aria. He doesn't need any more ammunition. The baby information doesn't leave here for the time being. As Caleb said, we’ll do all we can to make this asshole pay."
The room goes silent and I feel like everything is against us. We have nothing. We have no witnesses. No clues. Nothing. We’re banging our heads off every brick wall, because every route in this maze is a solid dead-end.
"Did you get a look at this guy?" asks Clay.
Aria nods and looks down at our joined hands. “I’ll never forget his face. It will haunt me for the rest of my life.”
"Could you work with me later this morning to draw up some sketches?"
Again, a subtle nod. Nothing else. No emotion. No words. Just her silent consent.
"That's enough for now." I stand up and gather all the paperwork that's on the table. "Leave all of this with me. I'll work from here for now. "
"You don't need to work. We have you covered." Chris pats my shoulder.
"I'm not going to rest until I've found him." I look at my brothers and give them my signature look that tells them not to question me. "Let me know if you find anything."
Everyone starts to get up from the table. They put their coffee cups in the dishwasher and leave through the front door. When we're alone, I move away from the table to make Aria some fresh coffee.
"What would you like to eat? Are you still a pancake kind of girl?"
I smile at the thought of us sitting eating pancakes on a Saturday morning when we were younger. We used to compete with one another to see who could make the highest tower without it collapsing. Then the fun part was eating it all up, getting sticky from the syrup, and collapsing on the sofa afterwards. Aria wasn’t one of those girls who calorie counted. She ate what she enjoyed, and I loved her more for that.
"I am, but I feel like eggs this morning."
"Scrambled? Fried? Poached?"
"Scrambled."
"Coming right up. I've placed some clothes on your bed. Treat this place like your own. When we catch this asshole, I'll take you shopping for whatever you and the baby need."
I work around the kitchen easily. I like to cook. It's good to be able to cook for someone other than myself. It’s also good to feel like I’m doing something useful. Since I arrived at the hospital yesterday, I don’t feel like I’ve done anything productive.
When silence surrounds us, I look around to see Aria wiping tears away from her face.
"Hey." I kneel in front of her and take her hands in mine. "What's wrong?”
"You're all being so kind. I don't deserve it."
"Don't be silly. Of course you do. You both do." I place my hand over her stomach and she watches it closely, which only makes her sob even more.
"It's okay. Come on. Don't cry." I wrap her in my arms and hold her tightly.
I don't know much about pregnant women, but I do know that their hormones are all over the place. That won't be helping her emotional state with everything she has endured.
"Why don't I run you a hot bath? You can relax in there for a while and I'll bring up your breakfast when it's ready."
