“I need an officer at the clinic,” I said. “And I need someone moving on that location now, in case he goes back.”
I waited for her to argue that I wasn’t an officer and couldn’t demand any such thing. But she only said, “Yes, sir. Units are en route.”
I ended the call and looked down the hall toward the front.
The clinic wasn’t open twenty-four hours. It didn’t stay unlocked at midnight. Whoever came next would have to knock. They’d have to wait to be let in.
Which meant we had minutes. Not hours. Minutes.
Madden reached up to cup my cheek. “Hey. You okay being here again so soon?”
So soon? I blinked at her. Fuck. I’d just been here last night, with her after the fire. Christ, that was barely over twenty-four hours ago.
I reached for her, tugging her into my space bubble. “When all this is over, how do you feel about the notion of a vacation away from all of humanity?”
The corner of her mouth twitched. “Do you have a line on such a Shangri-La?”
“I can find a way to make it happen. I’m very motivated for some peace and quiet.”
The other corner lifted. “Sounds like a plan.”
She didn’t say what we were both thinking—that this was a long way from over.
Someone pounded on the front door of the clinic. I instinctively dragged Madden behind me, even as Gabi stepped out of the exam room and made for the door.
Astrid burst inside, hair loose around her shoulders, eyes bright, cheeks already wet. She stopped short at the sight of Madden, as if her body couldn’t decide whether to run or collapse.
Madden crossed the distance in two strides, and Astrid met her halfway. They hugged hard. The kind of embrace that said I’ve been holding myself together by force of will, and now I don’t have to for ten seconds.
“She’s here?” Astrid whispered.
“She’s here,” Madden said into her hair. “She’s alive.”
Astrid made a sound that was half laugh, half sob. She pulled back and looked at Madden like she needed to confirm she was real. Her eyes snapped to me.
“Where is she?”
Gabi nodded toward the exam room. “She’s stable. You can see her in a minute.”
Astrid’s hands lifted, hovered, and dropped to her sides, because she didn’t know what to do with them. Fear did that. Relief did that.
Madden touched her elbow. “You’re not alone.”
Astrid nodded, swallowing hard. “Neither is she.”
Gabi opened the exam room door. “Come on.”
The room was small. Practical. Priya sat propped against the table now, a paper sheet crinkled under her thighs. An IV line ran to her arm, taped neatly. Her hands and ankles had been cleaned and wrapped in light bandages to protect raw skin and keep it from splitting again. The ugly redness around her wrists stood out anyway, a thin line where restraints had bit in.
Priya’s eyes lifted the moment Astrid stepped in.
Something broke on her face. The expression tried to fold in on itself, overwhelmed.
“Astrid,” she rasped.
Astrid crossed the space and took her carefully, mindful of the IV, arms wrapping around her shoulders, cheek pressed to her hair. Priya clung back like she was anchoring herself to the only thing she trusted to stay.
“I’m here,” Astrid said, voice thick. “I’m right here.”
