“Annie?” Meghan whispered into the darkness. “Are you asleep?”
“Are you kidding? I can’t stop thinking.” She didn’t want to tell her that she couldn’t erase the images from her mind. Or how she had become paralyzed with fear as Kevin had lay . . . bleeding.
“Do you think he’ll be okay?”
“I do. Your husband is a strong, healthy guy.” She knew she shouldn’t have referred to Kevin as Meghan’s husband, not in light of the divorce. Which Annie wondered if she should warn her about now. It was one more thing to worry about. One more slice of torment.
“Thank you for everything you’ve done, Annie. Thank you for being so nice to me.”
“How could I not? I liked you before I knew who you were. I did think it was a little strange that you were reading children’s books about turtles, though.”
Meghan let out a short, little laugh. “I’m not very good at trying to be someone I’m not.”
“Neither am I.” Annie’s knew that her years with her second husband had proved that.
In the darkness of the supply closet, they fell silent as the scents of cardboard boxes mingled with the roses in the air.
Then Meghan said, “Annie? What will he think when he sees me?”
Annie had no answer. So she was honest. “I’ve been wondering the same thing. Have you thought about how you want to do this? Or what you should say first?”
“No. But I guess I should.”
“It’s going to be a shock for him when he sees you.”
“And that I know who he is. And that I’m okay.”
Annie prayed that the confusion wouldn’t be too much for him.
“I think I’ll try and sleep now,” Meghan said. “I don’t want to be exhausted in the morning. And at least I know he’s peaceful now.”
There was no need to mention they did not know that for sure.Tomorrow, Annie thought,could not come soon enough.
* * *
She awoke at dawn, not to sunlight, as there were no windows in the supply closet, but to the sounds of a hospital beginning a new day: footsteps pattering in quick precision, muffled wheels of carts, the low chatter of take-charge voices. Annie found it comforting, a gentle cloak of life resuming. She wondered if Kevin had slept uneventfully through the night. The fact that they hadn’t been alerted otherwise must mean that, so far, he was stable.
She closed her eyes again as questions began to nag her. Why had she been so hell-bent on trying to figure out what Simon Anderson was doing there? What had she been trying to prove? That her amateur investigative skills could unearth a sinister motive? And, most important, would she ever learn to stop treating real life as if it were fiction, as if she could create a plot with twists and turns that felt like the real stuff, resulting in an ending that she wanted?
While a mystery might offer readers a pleasant escape, being able to write one didn’t mean Annie could control what was really going on. And if she hadn’t been so damned inquisitive, this “accident,” as John called it, simply would not have happened. Not to mention that all she’d learned was at some time between working at theGlobeand moving into broadcasting, Andrew Simmons changed his name and the color of his eyes. Big whoop. Who cared? The information hadn’t been worth the outcome.
Maybe there had been nothing sinister involved, and he’d only changed his name because he thought Simon Anderson suited him better, sounded more successful. Still, if Annie hadn’t been so edgy, so ashamed that she’d been caught, she could have asked him. Plain and simple.
Weighted by guilt, worried for her brother, she would have let out a loud sob if she hadn’t known it would awaken Meghan, who, hopefully, had slept peacefully.
Slowly opening her eyes, Annie turned toward the other makeshift accommodation. It was too dark to see if Meghan was awake; if she, too, had been ruminating on what-ifs and if-onlys.
Then a burst of fluorescence lit up the space.
“I know no one is in here because that would be against hospital protocol,” a woman declared. “But it’s five thirty, and as the nurse supervisor, I must check to be sure everything is in proper order.” She closed the door, and Annie heard the pattering of footsteps fade.
“Oh my God,” she said. “Meghan. You’re awake now, right?”
But Meghan didn’t answer.
Fumbling for her phone, Annie quickly lit the icon of the flashlight. “Meghan?” She beamed it to the other bed, which had been neatly stripped. And Meghan’s suitcase was gone.
Annie tried her best to smooth her hair. Then she pulled the linens off the bed, grabbed the vase of roses and her canvas bag, and made a quick escape. On her way past the nurses’ station, she left the roses on the counter. With a hurried thank-you wave to the nurse supervisor, she headed for the ladies room. Her next stop would be ICU; she prayed that Meghan had wound up camping out in the waiting room.
