Page 118 of One More Time


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“I'm afraid I don't know much more about Shawna,” I said, getting straight to the point. “Like I said, I only met her once, last night at The Pig's Ear, and really, only for a couple of minutes at that.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You met her at The Pig's Ear? Last night?”

“Yeah, she came to talk to Eli,” I said. “Then she left. He said he hadn't seen her for months before that, and only knew her briefly back then.”

He wrote something down, then looked back up at me as if waiting for more information. I had none to give him so instead, I switched the topic.

“Do you think there's something going on in Yora?” I asked. “All the drug overdoses lately, and the gun violence? I can't imagine this is normal for a town our size.”

Chris shrugged. “It's nothing new,” he said. “Yora has always had its problems.”

“I don't remember it being this bad –”

“You weren't a nurse before either. You didn't see it up close and personal like you do now,” he said.

There was a strange tone in his voice that made me study his face a little closer. It had hardened and darkened a bit as he spoke. It was as if he was trying to hide any emotion from showing on it. After a minute of me staring at him, he relaxed and reached out for my hand.

“Hannah, I know it must be hard for you to come back, after all these years, and see the true Yora with all of its blemishes and ugliness,” he said. “It must be like someone pulled back the curtain, allowing you to see the dark underbelly and the worst parts of the town. Trust me, I get it. Being a cop, I usually see so much I'd rather not see.”

“I bet,” I said, rubbing his arm as I stood up. “I should probably get back to work. Unless you have any more questions for me?”

“No, you're good to go, Hannah,” he said, standing up alongside me. “Unless, of course, you're up for that coffee date I keep asking you about –”

I sighed. Maybe it was written on my face, because Chris put his hands up in defeat. “I get it. You're not interested in dating,” he said. “But, if you ever want to chat about Yora, you know where to find me.:

“Thanks, Chris,” I said, heading back toward the hospital entrance.

I wasn't sure why he and Eli were no longer friends. Maybe, it was because they'd taken such different paths in life? Chris followed in his father's footsteps and became a cop. Eli was, well, Eli. Tending bar with no idea what he was doing with his life. I glanced back at him and couldn't help but see the troubled expression on his face. He was worried about something. About me? I didn't know and didn't really feel like pondering it at the moment.

I gave him a smile and waved before going back inside the hospital.

Chapter Seven

Elijah

Aubree had just fallen asleep, and with my head resting on the back of the couch, I'd just started to doze off when the front door of Hannah's apartment opened. It was still dark outside, but a hint of light was making an appearance in the sky, which meant it was really damn late, or really damn early, depending on how you looked at it.

Since I hadn't been asleep yet, it felt late as hell.

Hannah tried to be quiet as she slipped in through the front door, and at first, I didn't think she saw me sitting there. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun on top of her head, no bangs or anything to soften her face, but she didn't need it. Her face was angelic as they came. When she caught me staring at her, she smiled. The smile though, was quickly replaced that with a serious expression that bordered on the grim.

“How long has she been asleep?” she whispered.

“About half an hour,” I said.

She motioned for me to follow her into the bedroom, and she closed the door behind us, allowing us to talk in a voice above a whisper. Seeing her in the now harsh light of the bedroom, I could tell something was bothering her. Her eyes were dark and heavy, her smile forced, tension radiating from her body.

“What's wrong, Hannah?” I asked.

She walked over to her dresser and pulled out some pajamas, all without saying a word. She didn't answer my question, so I walked over to her and grabbed hold of her shoul

der, forcing her to look at me.

“Hannah, talk to me, please,” I said.

“It's nothing, Eli,” she said, holding her pajamas in her arms. “Can I change, please?”

I let her go and she slipped into the bathroom, quietly shutting the door behind her. I sat on her bed, tracing the pink flowers of her bedspread with my finger as I waited for her to come back out and talk to me.

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