“George.”
In the background, Hugh could hear an agonized cry.Please let it not be Bex,he thought. “Are you hurt, George?”
“I’m fine.”
“Is anyone else hurt? Does someone need a doctor? It sounds like there might be some people in pain.”
“They don’t deserve help.”
Hugh felt the eyes of Chief Monroe and at least a dozen other officers on him. He turned his back. The relationship he needed to build with George Goddard was between the two of them, and no one else. “Whatever happened in there, George, you’re not to blame. I know that there are other people at fault here. Whatever happened, happened. That’s over and done. But you and I can work together, now, to make sure no one else gets hurt. We can resolve this…and help you…at the same time.”
Hugh waited for a response, but there wasn’t one. Well. It beatFuck you. As long as George was still on the line, he had a chance.
“Here’s my phone number, in case we get disconnected,” Hugh said. He rattled off the digits. “I’m the one in charge out here.”
“Why should I trust you?” George asked.
“Well,” Hugh said, having known this question would come, “we haven’t stormed the building, have we? My gun is still in my holster, George. I want to work with you. I want us to both get what we want.”
“You can’t give me what I want,” George answered.
“Try me.”
“Really.”
Hugh could hear the sarcasm in George’s voice. “Really,” he confirmed.
“Then bring my grandchild back to life,” George said, and he hung up the phone.
Eleven a.m.
IT WASN’T AS IF THE WAITING ROOM OF THE CENTERscreamedWe do abortions here.It reminded Wren a little of her dentist’s office: bad art on the walls, magazines from the Stone Age, a television playing some dumb talk show. There was a couch and a smattering of chairs, none of which matched. The coffee table had deep grooves in it, as if it had come from a previous, careless home.
Then again, not everyone was here to have an abortion.Shewasn’t. Her aunt wasn’t. The other woman in the waiting room clearly wasn’t either: an older woman with sleek silver hair and red-rimmed eyes.
Wren wondered if that woman was making the assumption that she was pregnant, that she had gotten herself “in trouble.” She was here for the exact opposite reason.
Could people tell that she was a virgin? Did hooking up with a guy change you, somehow, from the inside out? Would she come downstairs the morning afterIthappened and would her father instantly know by looking at her?
The thought embarrassed her. What if her dad could tell, and he asked her about it?Could you pass me the salt, and who the hell did you sleep with?
It wasn’t really that she was afraid he’d kill Ryan. (He mightwantto, but he was an officer of the law, through and through.) It was that for so long it had just been the two of them. Even though she didn’t think things would change—and didn’t want things to change—it felt like there would always be someone else between them now.
The lady at the front desk who had checked her in was chatting with a pink-haired girl who had just come into the Center. “Sorry I’m late, Vonita,” the girl said.
“Thank the Lord you’re here. I don’t have a single escort out there.”
“What happened to Sister Donna?”
“She didn’t show,” Vonita said. “Maybe the Vatican finally got her to quit.”
Aunt Bex nudged Wren with her shoulder and raised her eyebrows. Wren smirked, an entire conversation without words. It had always been like that between them. “Anun?” Bex whispered.
“And you thoughtyouwere the least likely person to be here,” Wren replied. “How much school do you think I’m going to miss? Another whole period?”
“Aren’t you here to keep that very thing from happening?” Bex smiled. “I don’t know what you’re complaining about. Personally, I am riveted by the reading material.”
On the coffee table beside them was a stack of pamphlets: “The Gynecological Visit and Exam—What to Expect.”
