“I’m sorry, this is as far as you can go.” Funny, the paramedics' faces were a blur to me. I barely took any notice of them, but her, I see her so vividly. I notice everything — the strands of her silver hair, the age lines on her face, and the kindness in her big, brown eyes. She reminds me subtly of my own grandmother.
I take a seat in the waiting room and rest my heavy head in my hands.
“You’re not alone, kid.” I feel Taylor’s hand on my shoulder.
I look up at him, weary. “I can’t help thinking if I never left, would this have happened?”
“Yes, it would have, and you might have ended up on that operating table, too. Or worse. But she’s tough, she’ll pull through.”
“If I lose her—”
“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” He cuts my detrimental thoughts off at the knees.
We don’t talk much after Taylor snags a scrub top for me. We just sit in silence and wait.
And wait.
And wait.
And wait.
Sometimes all you need is some quiet and a strong foundation to lean on.
When the doctor appears in the waiting room Taylor and I both stand, holding our breath.
25
Tate
It’s a warm February day,but every so often the breeze brings a chill.
I place a dozen red roses on the grave in front of me.
The inscription reads:
Here lies Dove Reynolds
Fighter, lover, survivor
Shark
Darlin’
There’sa heaviness in my heart.
My entire world is different now.
I stand over the grave a little longer.
It’s the last time I’ll come.
The drive to the official DEA office in El Paso is a quiet one. No radio, no windows open. Only me and my silent thoughts.
They’re racing.
I make my way down the drab hallway with vending machines and bathrooms. Past cubicles filled with agents and analysts, and make my way to Taylor’s office door.
I knock.
