40
Harris Regional Hospital— Outside ICU 412
Deputy Luke Hale stepped off the elevator beside Dr. Vivian Calder, the fourth-floor corridor full of low voices and rolling carts. Hospital lighting bathed everything in the same tired yellow.
Luke still felt like the new guy.
His first official day on the job at Jackson County Sheriff’s Department had been the day after Sara Parker vanished.
Welcome to Sylva. What a way to start.
Since then, everything had blurred into chaos—suspects, long nights, radio traffic. A department he still wanted to belong to… once things got back to normal.
Deputy Jenkins stood sentry outside Room 412, coffee gone cold in his hand.
“There he is,” Jenkins said, straightening. “Sheriff said you’d be taking over.”
Luke nodded. “How is she?”
Jenkins blew out a breath, glancing through the narrow window in the door. “Whatever they drugged her with before dumping her inthat bed—it’s hanging on. Squad brought her in through the ER a little after ten. She hasn’t made a peep since they rolled her up from downstairs. Vitals are holding. Doc says it’s gonna wear off slow.”
Dr. Vivian Calder stepped closer to the glass, taking a measured look at Sara. “Pulse ox?”
“Ninety-eight with supplemental,” Jenkins said. “BP’s stable. They’ve got her on fluids and something mild to keep her from snapping awake in a full panic.”
Calder gave a short, satisfied nod. “Good. I’ll need to observe her once she starts cycling in and out of sleep. For now, the best thing we can do is keep the environment controlled.”
She looked at Luke. “You’ll be on that door?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Then no one comes through but me, her attending, her mother, and her sister,” Calder said. “If anyone questions that, you send them to Director Tucker or Sheriff Scott.”
“Understood.”
Jenkins handed Luke the clipboard and surrendered his post. “She stirs, she goes right back under,” he said. “You’ll hear it if she starts climbing. The monitors don’t lie.”
Luke clapped his shoulder. “Go home, Jenkins. Get some sleep.”
“Wouldn’t mind forgetting today ever happened,” Jenkins muttered, managing a tired half-smile for Calder. “Doctor.”
When he was gone, the hallway settled into its strange hospital quiet—never truly silent, just layered noise under the lights.
Luke shifted his weight, looking through the window.
Sara lay pale against the white sheets, IV line taped neatly at her hand. No bruises visible. No restraints. Only the neatness of someone who’d been arranged and left behind.
He’d seen her around the department before. In uniform. In passing. Quick and sharp when she spoke. The day he had his interview, he had noticed her pretty green eyes and the sprinkle of freckles on her nose.
Now she looked smaller.
Too still.
And yeah—she was still pretty, even like this—which made him annoyed at himself for noticing.
Calder watched him watching her. “You know her well?” she asked.
“She’s one of ours,” he said. “That’s enough.”
