Page 132 of The Diamond in the Rough

I had been.

I’d treated myself by ordering a pizza, and had just finished putting half of it away—I’d gotten an extra-large on purpose to have leftovers—when I realized that the euphoria of the day was gone, replaced by a kind ofmelancholy exhaustion that had nothing to do with the pepperoni, sausage, ham, bacon, cheese, and carbs I’d just eaten.

Okay, maybe some of the exhaustion had a little to do with that, but it was more likely the product of terrible sleep that had only gotten marginally better in the past few weeks. And maybe a little to do with the dull ache in my arm that was slowly improving, but had been aggravated when they’d removed the fixator, although that hadn’t been nearly as horrible as I’d been afraid it would be.

Ward had come with me, which was very sweet of him, although I couldn’t decide if I was glad he’d come or annoyed that he didn’t think I could do it on my own, even though I was pretty sure if I’d asked him not to, he wouldn’t have.

I’d wanted it to be Raj.

But I hadn’t seen him since the night he’d had that nightmare.

And he hadn’t texted me, either.

So despite our shared sandwich dinner in the hospital, I guess he was still of the opinion that there couldn’t be any sort ofusoutside of work.

I tried to be okay with that. It made sense, in a logical way. I just… didn’t much like logic when it came to that particular situation.

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He really hopedhis father had left them something, even if he and his brother hadn’t been the most attentive sons.

She was excited.Was it weird that she was excited? They’d spent years trying to figure out where their family had come from, and now they might actually get some answers. And not just answers—they might actually get to talk to one of their ancestors!

She just wantedit to be over. The arguing. The probate. All of it. She honestly didn’t give a shit what the answers were—she just wanted it all cleared up.

She glared over at her three siblings, still arguing, even here, about what Mother did or didn’twant.

Thank God for mediums.

He letthe baby play with his keys, watching as he filled out the forms to make sure she didn’t stick them in her mouth. He was so tired it was hard to concentrate on the questions.

It had been seven days since Maria died.

It felt like seven years.

Shit.

He grabbed the keys away from Daniella before she stuck them in her mouth, which of course made her cry.

He tried to find something in his bag to calm her when a voice interrupted.

“Would you like me to walk with her?”

He looked up. And up.

The orc was huge, but as far as he was concerned, anyone who could give him any relief was a saint. “That would be great.”

The orc smiled, then came over and picked up Daniella, bouncing her a little until her shrieks turned to hiccoughs, then blissful silence.

Her little fists grabbed the orc’s braids.

“You have kids?” he asked.

The orc smiled. “My nephew lives with us, and we’re in the adoption process.”

“She likes you,” he said. Maybe he should be jealous that this guy had managed to calm his daughter when he couldn’t, but at the moment, he was just grateful that someone could.

I putthe fourth pen back into the cup. I remembered that man. Andy Duarte. His wife, Maria, had died of sepsis after her appendix had burst, and he’d been struggling with Daniella—only four months old—in his wife’s absence. He’d come to see Ward so that he could ask her what to do.