“The door has a keycard entrance. Does she have the card with her?”
Gil walked to Ivy’s door and opened it. “The officers need to go in first. Can you give them the access card?”
Her eyes widened. “Do you think something has happened inside?”
“Just being extra cautious.”
She reached down to the floorboard for her purse with her left hand, but when she opened it, she bumped her right hand against the glove compartment and a low hiss escaped.
The sound ripped through Gil’s chest. If he could get his hands on that guy...
Ivy dug through her bag for a few more seconds before she extricated a lanyard. “They need to use the card first. Then enter the code. Should I give them the code? Or go punch it in for them?”
“What are you most comfortable with?”
“We change the code every month. And the code is useless without the card. I don’t mind giving it to them.” Gil reached for the lanyard, and she handed it to him. “The current code is 5477464.”
“Got it.” Gil returned to the officers and gave them the lanyard and the code, then went to the car and stood by Ivy’s now-open door.
“Should I get out now?”
Her bravery was killing him. She was trying to hide it, but he could see the fatigue, stress, and pain—a nasty cocktail under any circumstances—working their brutal mischief. “Sit as long as you can. Rest. They’ll let us know when we can go in.”
She settled into the seat and closed her eyes. The fact that she didn’t argue with him told him more than anything she could have said.
“I don’t suppose I could convince you to take the pain medsnow?” She’d refused them in the pharmacy parking lot, insisting she needed a clear head.
“Need to be able to think.”
“Fine. But as soon as we’re done inside, you need to take your meds.”
This got him a tiny nod.
They didn’t speak again until the officers waved them inside and they entered the building. The entrance was modern—all silver, black, steel, and streamlined. The walls were studded with extraordinary art. Black-and-white photos of men, women, and children. All amputees. All stunning in their strength and bravery. There was no cheesy mission statement in evidence, but a person would have to be a soulless monster not to be moved by the company’s clear passion for the people behind the work happening at Hedera.
“Wow.” The word escaped him, and Ivy gave him the first genuine smile he’d seen her direct at him in fifteen years.
“Like it?”
“It’s brilliant.” Brilliant was an understatement, but she didn’t seem to mind.
“Thank you. I love it. Whenever I get frustrated about our progress, I bring my laptop and work out here. It doesn’t take long for me to adjust my perspective.” Her eyes flickered over the images, lingering on a few of them.
“Do you know the people in these photographs?”
“Every single one.” She blew out a breath. “Let’s do this so these officers can go on about their night.”
6
IT TOOK IVY close to an hour to check all the systems to her satisfaction. When she was done, she and Gil grabbed a bottle of water for her from the break room, thanked the officers who had covered their late-night activities, and returned to the car.
Before they left the parking lot, Ivy took her meds. Before they got to the main road, she was struggling to keep her eyes open. Gil figured he had thirty minutes, forty-five tops, before Ivy couldn’t stay upright. He needed to get her home and settled.
They rode in silence, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Gil thought Ivy might have fallen asleep, but then she asked, “Is Emily already there?” Ivy wasn’t slurring her words, but she was getting close.
“She is. But she knows you’re exhausted. She texted while we were at your office that she has your room ready.”
Ivy’s only response was a low hum, and when Gil pulled into his driveway ten minutes later, she was asleep.
