Liam was nothing like her patients. He was so alive the air seemed to vibrate around his small, narrow frame. This intensity might have been unsettling, if it had been matched by rage. But in him, this wide-eyed silent child, there was no shred of any dark emotion.
As Ethan and Ryan cleared away the empty plates, Jenna realized what drew her so intensely. Liam shared one trait with her patients. One crucial element.
He was isolated.
Isolation was one of her patients’ top enemies. Jenna always considered it her first priority, to identify what frightened a new patient most of all and meet it head-on. Breaking down the patient’s barriers depended on this. Showing them she was truly there for them. For the long haul.
Liam was the same, only different.
She found herself wanting to enter into this child’s world. Beyond any logical argument to the contrary. She felt connected, and wanted the boy to know. It was as simple as that.
While their hosts were busy in the kitchen and it was just the three of them at the table, Liam and Noah and herself, she said, “I understand you are a very gifted artist.”
The clatter of plates being loaded into the dishwasher instantly stilled.
Liam watched her carefully. He had been doing this on and off all evening. Shooting her intense, measuring looks. Then flitting away, assuming she neither noticed nor cared.
He offered a fractional nod.
Noah said, “Liam is a sketch artist of the first order.”
“What are you drawing now?” Jenna held herself as still as the boy. “Do you have a favorite subject?”
Ryan responded from the kitchen, “My son has become fascinated with the undead.”
“Fascinated doesn’t go far enough,” Ethan said. “I get nightmares after seeing his sketches.”
“I can’t look at them at night,” Ryan agreed.
“This from a cop who’s seen more than her share of crime scenes,” Ethan said.
Most of her early conversations with new patients took place in situations just like this. With loved ones hovering nervously, trying to protect and shield and do anything to keep from feeling helpless. Jenna did not ignore Ryan and Ethan so much as keep her focus entirely upon the young man. Because the longer she studied him, the more certain she became that Liam was undergoing secret changes. Things he might himself not yet fully realize.
She said, “Now that is very interesting. Have they told you what I do?”
Liam spoke. “You’re a nurse.”
“I suppose that’s partly true. I’m a sort-of nurse.”
“How can you be sort-of?”
“I only work with late-stage patients.”
Ryan drifted back into view, followed by Ethan. Ryan held a spoon, Ethan a dishrag. Both made round Os with their mouths. Typical response from so many when they first heard about Jenna’s calling.
But this conversation wasn’t about them.
She waited.
Liam asked, “What’s late stage?”
“They’re dying. Real nurses help people heal and survive and get back to living their lives. These people can’t. They never will. That’s when I come in. To help them make that last incredible transition.”
Liam asked, “You watch them die?”
“That’s part of my job. Yes.”
“Yuck.”
