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I nod. “Sorry. I’m just really tired. The painkillers.”
The older officer nods. “You get some rest. We’ll talk to you later.”
Great. Now I have the police to worry about.
As they leave, I feel a wave of exhaustion roll over me. I yawn. “That’s my cue,” Mara says with a smile.
“Sorry.”
“Hey, I’m just glad you’re OK,” she says, squeezing my hand. “It sounds like you had a real scare.”
Scary doesn’t come close. More like, utterly terrifying.
“It’s over now,” I say, as much to myself as her. “I’ll be OK.”
Mara helps me adjust my bed back down flat again, and I snuggle into the covers, already feeling the painkillers take over. She’s still arranging the covers as I let the fatigue pull me under.
It's late when I wake again. The ward is silent, and someone’s drawn the curtains, casting the room in a dim gloom. I let out a yawn and stretch—then wince as my ribs ache in protest.
Someone moves closer. “Do you need a doctor?”
The voice makes me freeze.
“Caleb?” I whisper, my voice cracking. This has got to be a mirage again, just my morphine-addled mind conjuring up the one man my heart aches to see.
But he’s real.
Caleb clicks on a lamp beside the bed, illuminated by the glow. He’s sitting at my bedside, looking worse for wear in a crumpled shirt and pants, two-day stubble on his face.
“Hey,” he says quietly, eyes dark on me. Inscrutable.
I reach over and touch him, willing him to disappear, like a phantom. But he’s solid. Real.
He came. He really came.
Relief floods through me.
“Are you awake? Anything hurt?” His voice is calm and measured, but it washes over me like a balm.
“I’m okay. Still kind of foggy.”
“The doctors tell me you have a concussion.”
“My head aches. But I’m okay.”
He nods, and gets up, moving away from the bed. I watch him run a hand through his hair, and let out a long breath. Then he seems to collect himself. When he turns back to me, his voice is cold with fury. “Jesus, Juliet. What in the hell did you think you were doing?
You could’ve gotten yourself killed!”
“Myself?” I echo, struggling to process his change in tone. “I didn’t do anything! Someone ran me off the road.”
He whips his head around to stare at me. “What did you say?”
“I said, it wasn’t my fault.” Tears sting in the corner of my eyes. “A car was following me, they tried to run me off the road. That’s all I remember.”
“Who?” Caleb demands, moving closer. “Who would do that?”
“I don’t know,” I exclaim. “I told you someone was threatening me, maybe it’s them. Nero.”
