"Do you know if Lydia shared where my mother is? And if she was behind her death too?"
"That I don't know."
Seraphine nodded. The clear eyes dimmed for a moment, then steadied. Callie felt for her. It wasn't easy. Cases weren't always clear-cut. Sometimes questions went unanswered. The public never wanted it that way. They wanted to know that everyone got closure. That every thread was tied and every victim was found and every family got the phone call that ended the waiting. But that wasn't reality. Some would never get that call. Some questions would sit in the dark for years, growing roots, becoming part of the landscape. You learned to live beside them.
"I get out today," Seraphine said. "If I don't get the chance to tell him, please tell Noah to swing by. I'd like to thank him too."
"I will do."
Callie was a little lost for words but gave a strained smile. Dr. Whitfield placed a hand on Seraphine's shoulder and turned the wheelchair toward the door. Seraphine looked back once. Then they were gone.
After they left,Callie made her way out and down the corridor to Noah's room. She'd seen him briefly the night before but hadn't had a chance to speak with him. The staff had worked around the clock. Naloxone drip, oxygen, monitoring. The morphine had fought hard and the hospital had fought harder and somewhere in the middle of the night Noah's breathing had steadied and the blue had left his lips and the gray had left his face and the machines had stopped alarming.
She approached the door and could hear chatter from inside. Through the gap she saw Mia sitting on the edge of the bed, Gretchen in the chair by the window, and Ethan standing against the wall with his arms folded. Hugh Sutherland sat in the far corner, upright, rigid, the way he always sat, and Ray stood beside the window with a coffee in his hand.
Callie turned to walk away.
"Oh, looks like you have another visitor, Noah." Ray had spotted her through the gap. "Callie. We were just about to leave."
She stepped in. Her eyes met Noah's.
He was sitting up in the bed, an IV in his arm, a pulse oximeter on his finger. He looked tired. But he was awake and his eyes were clear and his color was back and that was enough.
Mia approached Callie and hugged her tightly. A hug that came from somewhere deeper than gratitude. Mia's arms were around her and Mia's face was against her shoulder and Callie could feel the girl shaking. Tears welling in Mia's eyes.
"Thank you," Mia said. "For what you did."
The words landed hard. Callie knew how much Noah's kids had already lost. A mother who died. A childhood split betweenhouses. Years of watching their father drive into the dark and waiting to see if he drove back. She held Mia and said nothing because nothing she could say would be better than just being there.
Gretchen followed. A shorter hug but just as firm. She pulled back and nodded once and that was Gretchen.
Ethan just said, "Thanks," and walked out.
Hugh Sutherland rose from his chair. "Okay, guys. Give her some space." He moved toward the door, the way he always did, expecting the room to adjust. He paused near Callie. Didn't touch her. Didn't hug her. Just looked at her with an expression that was as close to warmth as Hugh Sutherland got.
"Good work," he said. And then he was gone.
They filed out. Ray was the last one through the door. He stopped and looked back at Noah.
"Remember what I said. Swing by my place when you're well enough."
Noah nodded.
Ray patted Callie's arm as he passed. "Thank you."
The door closed behind them. The room was quiet. The machines beeped their steady rhythm and the window showed the mountains and the morning and the clouds that were starting to break after the storm.
Now, it was just the two of them.
"So I hear they're going to keep you another day just to monitor you," Callie said.
"I'm good with that." He shifted in the bed. "How's Seraphine?"
"She's up. Discharged today. She wasn't hit with the same dose you were."
Callie took a seat beside his bed. The chair was warm. Someone had been sitting in it for a long time.
"Right." Noah nodded and bit down on his lower lip as if holding in something that had been building since he woke up. A tear welled in his eye. He blinked it back but it came anyway, tracking down his cheek. He didn't wipe it. "About yesterday. What you did."
