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“Thank you for taking care of her,” Zoe said as her eyes welled. “I’d like to see her,” she said as her voice broke.
“Of course,” Maria said, gesturing toward the double doors.
Mitch knew beyond those doors Lana lay on a gurney bed, draped in a white sheet. Mitch didn’t follow them, but rather gave Zoe the privacy she needed. He crossed his arms over his chest and inhaled deeply as the doors swung closed behind them.
CHAPTER6
ZOE
She knew it was Lana before Maria pulled back the sheet, revealing her ashen, lifeless face. Zoe’s leg buckled beneath her but Maria wrapped an arm around her waist to keep her from falling.
“Sit,” she said gently but firmly as she pulled a stool underneath Zoe.
Maria guided her onto it as Zoe exhaled a shaky breath. When Maria seemed confident Zoe wasn’t going to fall off the stool, she quietly said, “I’ll give you some privacy. Take as long as you need.”
In that moment, Zoe thought Maria had the voice of an angel, but as quickly as the thought came, it went. She could do nothing but stare at her baby sister.
“What happened, Lana?” she whispered with a ragged breath. “What happened to you?”
Zoe stared at Lana, willing her eyes to open. For her own eyes to open like this was some nightmare. But she’d been here before—with her parents, with her husband—and even though she wanted it to be a nightmare, she was fully aware this was reality. Cold, hard, brutal reality.
She leaned forward, tucking Lana’s hair behind her unnaturally cold ear. She was twenty-four. Forever twenty-four. Tears rolled down Zoe’s cheek and dripped off her jaw.
She felt like she’d failed her parents. She’d promised them, when she’d visited them in the morgue, she would look after Lana. She had failed them all.
Zoe blew out a breath that threatened to strangle her.
“I’m so sorry, Lana,” she whispered, her voice raw. “I’m sorry I failed you, and failed our parents. I was too...” Her voice cracked, trailing off. She didn’t know when Lana had last been seen, when she’d gone missing. She didn’t know who the suspects might be. She’d left it in the hands of the police and let them deal with it because she had been too broken to even consider the possibility her sister had been taken from her too. She hadn’t wanted to believe it—it had been so easy to believe Lana was off doing her own thing and that one day she would return to Zoe.
But now here she was, faced with the debilitating question: if she’d taken an interest in the missing persons case, could she have found Lana before it was too late? Could she have saved her?
Zoe leaned forward, resting her elbows on the metal gurney, her head dropping between her arms as her body wracked with sobs. Over and over again she told Lana she was sorry, over and over until her voice was a harsh whisper—a voice she didn’t recognize.
When the tears finally stopped, she looked up, her eyes landing on her sister’s unnaturally still chest. She couldn’t save Lana, but maybe she could save someone else.
“I’m going to do everything I can to help the police,” she said, a whispered promise. “I’m going to help them find who did this, so that they can’t hurt anyone else. Rest in peace, Lana. I’m going to take you home to Mom and Dad,” she said, wondering when they would release her body. She would bury Lana beside her parents, in one of the family plots Zoe had purchased for their parents, Zoe and her husband, and Lana. She’d always hoped Lana’s would never be needed—that she’d live a long and happy life and eventually be buried next to her husband or someone she loved, wherever she ended up living.
Zoe took a full breath and wiped her eyes. She wondered how long she’d been in the morgue—she had no concept of time, but suddenly she was freezing. She rubbed her eyes, sure she looked like a puffy blowfish with a bright red nose. Her nose always went bright red when she cried. She could thank her beloved mother for whatever gene caused that, because they had shared it.
When she pushed open the double doors and walked through them, Maria was nowhere to be found, but Mitch sat at a small table reading something on his phone. He looked up at the sound of her footsteps.
His warm eyes drew her in like a comforting blanket. “Come sit,” he said gently, pulling out the chair next to him. He didn’t ask her if she was okay, he didn’t offer his sympathies, and she was grateful for that. Right now she just needed to not be alone, but she didn’t want to talk either.
She sat in the chair, suppressing a shiver—one that didn’t go unnoticed. He took off his jacket and passed it to her.
She shook her head, refusing.
“Take it,” he said knowingly.
Mitch had a way of being commanding without being arrogant or dismissive, and she liked that about him.
She gave him a small smile. “Thank you,” she said as she draped it over her shoulders. It smelled of amber wood and a hint of musk... it was an intoxicating scent. She inhaled deeply, letting it distract her from her grief for a moment while she collected her thoughts. “How long was I in there?” she asked.
He looked at her a moment. “I’m not sure,” he said, so convincingly that she would’ve bet her life he was telling her the truth, yet he seemed like the kind of guy who would pay attention to that kind of detail.
Her eyes dropped to her watch and her eyes widened. She’d noted the time when they’d pulled up at the hospital and two hours had passed.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize I was in there so long, I’m sure you’re busy—”
