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Will finally spoke. His voice sounded as defeated as he looked. "You should fire me."
"You're not getting off that easy."
"I'm not kidding, Amanda. You should fire me."
"I'm not kidding either, you ignorant jackass." Amanda tucked her hands into her hips, looking more like the usual, annoyed Amanda that Faith was familiar with. "Anna Lindsey's baby is safe because of you. I think that's a win for the team."
He scratched at his arm. Faith could see that the skin on his knuckles was broken and bleeding. She was reminded of that moment in the hallway when she had her hands on his face, the way she had willed him to be okay because Faith didn't know how she could handle being in the world if Will Trent stopped being the man she had shared her life with almost every day for the past year.
Amanda caught Faith's eye. "Give us a minute."
Faith pushed the door open and walked back into the hall. There was a low hum of activity in the ICU, but nothing like downstairs in the emergency room. The cops were back at their station in front of Anna's door, and their eyes followed Faith as she passed.
One of the nurses told her, "They're in exam three."
Faith didn't know why she was being given this information, but she went to exam three anyway. She found Sara Linton inside. The doctor was standing by a plastic bassinet. She was holding the baby in her arms—Anna's baby.
"He's bouncing back," Sara told Faith. "It'll take a couple of days, but he'll be fine. Mostly, I think being back with his mom again will help them both."
Faith couldn't be a human being right now, so she made herself be a cop. "Did Anna say anything else?"
"Not much. She's in a lot of pain. They upped the morphine now that she's awake."
Faith ran her hand down the baby's back, feeling the soft give of his skin, the tiny bones of his spine. "How long do you think he was left alone?"
"The EMT was right. I'd say two days, tops. Otherwise, we'd be in a very different situation." Sara moved the baby to her other shoulder. "Someone was giving him water. He's dehydrated, but not as bad as some I've seen."
"What are you doing here?" Faith asked. The question came out without any forethought. She heard it sound in her ears, and thought it was a good one—good enough to repeat. "Why are you here? Why were you with Anna in the first place?"
Sara gently returned the baby to the bassinet. "She's my patient. I was checking on her." She tucked a blanket around the infant. "Just like I checked on you this morning. Delia Wallace's office said you haven't called."
"I've been a little busy rescuing babies off of trash piles."
"Faith, I'm not the enemy here." Sara's tone took on the annoying tenor of someone trying to be reasonable. "This isn't just about you anymore. You have a child inside of you—another life you're responsible for."
"That's my decision."
"Your decision clock is running out. Don't let your body make it for you, because if it's between the diabetes and the baby, the diabetes will always win out."
Faith took a deep breath, but that didn't do anything to help matters. She let loose. "You know, you may be trying to force yourself onto my case, but I'll be damned if I'll let you force yourself into my private life."
"Excuse me?" Sara had the gall to sound surprised.
"You're not a coroner anymore, Sara. You're not married to a police chief. He's dead. You saw him blown to pieces with your own two eyes. You're not going to get him back by hanging out at the morgue and shoving your way onto an investigation."
Sara stood there with her mouth open, seemingly incapable of responding.
Shockingly, Faith burst into tears. "Oh, my God, I'm so sorry! That was so awful." She put her hand to her mouth. "I can't believe I said—"
Sara shook her head, looking down at the floor.
"I'm so sorry. God, I'm sorry. Please forgive me."
Sara took her time speaking. "I guess Amanda caught you up on the details."
"I looked it up on the computer. I didn't—"
"Agent Trent read it, too?"
"No." Faith made her voice firm. "No. He said it was none of his business, and he's right. It's none of my business, either. I shouldn't have looked. I'm sorry. I am just an awful, awful person, Sara. I can't believe I said that to you."
Sara bent down to the baby, put her hand to his face. "It's okay."
Faith floundered for something to say, rattling off all the horrible things she could think about herself. "Look, I lied to you about my weight. I've gained fifteen pounds, not ten. I eat Pop-Tarts for breakfast, sometimes for dinner but usually with a Diet Coke. I never exercise. Ever. The only time I run is when I'm trying to make it to the bathroom before the commercial's over, and honest to God, since I got TiVo, I don't even do that anymore."
Sara was still silent.
"I'm so sorry."
She kept fiddling with the blanket, tucking it in tighter, making sure the baby was in a tight little cocoon.
"I'm sorry," Faith repeated, feeling so awful she thought she might throw up.
Sara kept her thoughts to herself. Faith was trying to figure out how to gracefully leave the room when the doctor said, "I knew it was fifteen pounds."
Faith felt some of the tension start to dissipate. She knew better than to ruin it by opening her mouth.
Sara said, "No one ever talks to me about him. I mean, in the beginning, of course, but now no one even says his name. It's like they don't want to upset me, like saying his name might send me back to . . ." She shook her head. "Jeffrey. I can't remember the last time I said that out loud. His name is—was—Jeffrey."
"It's a nice name."
Sara nodded. Her throat worked as she swallowed.
"I saw pictures," Faith admitted. "He was good-looking."
A smile curved Sara's lips. "He was."
"And a good cop. You could tell by the way they wrote the reports."
"He was a good man."
Faith floundered, trying to think of something else to say.
Sara beat her to it, asking, "What about you?"
"Me?"
"The father."
In her mortification, Faith had forgotten about Victor. She put her hand to her stomach. "You mean my baby's daddy?"
Sara allowed a smile.
"He was looking for a mother, not a girlfriend."
"Well, that was never Jeffrey's problem. He was very good at taking care of himself." Her eyes took on a faraway look. "He was the best thing that ever happened to me."
"Sara—"
She went through the desk drawers and found a glucose monitor. "Let's test your blood sugar."
This time, Faith was too contrite to protest this time. She held out her hand, waited for the lancet to pierce her skin.
Sara talked as she went through the procedure. "I'm not trying to get back my husband. Believe me, if it was as simple as walking onto a case, I would sign up at the police academy tomorrow."
