“They couldn’t just use my CT scans or something?”
“Jane needs your help,”the reporter continues, while behind her, silent footage of my interview plays.“She has no ID, no paperwork, no memory of who she is, and no clue what she should do next. But maybe you recognize her?”A number flashes across the bottom of the screen.“If you know this woman, contact us here at the station, and we’ll connect you to the appropriate authorities. If you recall seeing her anywhere on any day prior to February first, let us know. As we attempt to piece together a woman’s shattered life, we send our warmest hope and comfort to Jane, no doubt curled in her hospital bed at this very moment.”
“Good lord! Am I an invalid?”
“Nothing sells a story like half-truths and a steaming pile of bullshit.” Shaking his head, Ollie twists back to face me and pastes on a fake smile. “Let’s focus on our goal of having your face exposed to the masses, andnoton my deep desire to smash the windshield out of that chick’s car. The latter will land me with another ding on my rap sheet, and, turns out, the hospital’s board of directors doesn’t like it when that happens.” Resetting himself, he studies his cards and tosses the color change down. “Let’s go with green. What’ve you got?”
ROUND TWELVE
OLLIE
Dara
Hey. Are we still on for tonight? You’re off shift at six, right?
“Oliver?” Mr. Schumaker waves from the end of the hall, red-faced as he frantically tries to catch my attention. And I… I’m just as eager not to give it, so I keep my head down and my eyes on the floor. Dropping my phone and hand into my pocket, I duck left and escape into a patient’s room.
Not Jane’s, unfortunately. But a kid in for a tonsillectomy. He’s three years old, has striking red hair, and when he’s not laid up in a hospital bed, he wears thick-lens glasses. It’s too bad he’s asleep, because settling into a chair and telling him how I totally rocked his surgery is a thousand times more preferable than spending a single second with a fat old man who wants to tell me how much Jane is costing him.
Fuck Schumaker and his bank account. He’s doing fine.
I walk all the way to the boy’s window and glance out at the white wall of nothingness, the same view that threatens to send Jane over the edge and into madness. But at least Caden—tonsil boy—gets to see a fraction of the parking lot, too. The same parking lot his parents peeled out of when I told them they could take an hour to escape and have a shower. A meal. A kiss on the cheek, even, since today is February fourteenth.
It’s the day of love.
Turning, I perch on the window frame and study the boy’s room, bursting with color and teddies and blankets. Flowers from anxiousgrandparents. Balloons from anxious parents. And most importantly, a brand-new, untouched, bright red raspberry jelly cup.
Mine.
I swipe the sugary delicacy straight off his table faster than my brain can compute, and slip it into my pocket for later.
Oops.
But then my phone vibrates with another text message, so I bring the device out of my pocket and exhale a breathy sigh, studying the screen and the flashing notification sitting at the top.
Dara
No pressure or anything. If you don’t wanna, that’s cool. Just let me know. Shaving my legs, or no? Washing my hair, or opening a bottle of wine and watching a movie on my own?
If I hear nothing by seven, I’ll assume you’re busy or uninterested. Either way, it’s all good. I won’t even make it weird that you stood me up.
Fuck.
I should go. I should honor my obligations and maintain my reputation as a good, decent man. Because I’m not the guy who stands women up, and I’mdefinitelynot the guy who stands a woman up on Valentine’s Day.
That’s just rude.
Tilting my head back until I hear and feel thethunk, I unlock my screen and throw my weight forward, pushing off the window and crossing Caden’s room. And while I move, I tap-tap-tap out a response and walk blindly into the hall.
“Oliver?”
“Argh!” I skid to a stop, coming nose-to-nose with an entirely displeased Mr. Schumaker.Shit!“Ugh…” I choke out a nervous laugh and slip my hands into my pockets. “You scared me, sir.”
“Can’t see why, since you knew full well I’ve been looking for you.” He sets his hands on his hips and staresdownhis nose at me, which is quite a skill, considering our four-inch height difference. “That news piece has been out for a few days now. Got any leads?”
As in, do we have an insurance policy to claim upon yet?
“No, sir. Not yet. But Billy’s fielding calls and working through the backlog of?—”
