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“In Charleston. Well, on the edge of it anyway.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “None of this makes any sense.”

“Then get some answers.” Ryker reaches into his pocket and withdraws a cell phone, then offers it to me. “Code is 3-3-4-7.”

I eye it warily. “I don’t know you.”

“I know you don’t. But I want to know that you’re not going to try to disappear into the middle of a hurricane when we leave. I didn’t risk my life to save yours so you could drive off another bridge a handful of hours later.”

He says is to plainly, so matter-of-factly, that I can’t help but feel a bit more relaxed in his presence. I get the impression that this isn’t a man who beats around the bush or pulls punches. And right now, maybe that’s what I need.

Drugs? There were drugs in my system?

That accusation hits me again. I may not be able to recall what I ate for breakfast—for the last two weeks—but I know one thing: I never take anything that dulls my senses.

Ever.

“I need to call my—” Except, there’s no one to call. My grandfather was my last remaining family member, and he died three months ago.

Did anyone notice I was gone? Surely they would have when I didn’t show up for work.

“Work. I need to call my work and let them know I’m okay.” I take the phone, use the code to unlock it, then type in the number to the main line for Pine Meadow.

“Pine Meadow Senior Care Facility, this is Parker. How can I help you today?”

Relief floods my system when I hear the familiar voice. “Parker, it’s Dahlia.”

“Dahlia! Where have you been?” Her voice is low as though she’s trying to whisper.

“I know, I’m sorry. I was in an accident.” I pinch the bridge of my nose, but it does nothing to ease the pounding.

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on, but you’d better steer clear of here. The police have been asking questions and⁠—”

“The police? What are you talking about?”

The phone shifts, and muffled voices come through the line.

“Okay, I will keep you updated on the wait list,” Parker says into the phone. “Thank you for your interest in Pine Meadow Senior Care, Mrs. Appletree.” She ends the call.

Slowly, I lower the phone.

Police? Why would they be asking questions? What happened?

My eyes fill, and I remove my glasses to wipe the tears away, but I don’t open my eyes yet. Lord, I don’t know what’s going on, but I know You will carry me through. Please help me. Please, Lord.

Two weeks.

And Parker says I need to steer clear of Pine Meadow? That the police have been asking questions? About what?

The diazepam.

Is it possible I did take it? But even as the thought hits me, I dismiss it. Never in a million years would I steal. Especially medication from the facility. Missing two weeks or not, that is not me.

The door opens, and the doctor comes back in with two other people. The man beside him is wearing a suit, a badge clipped to his belt. The second newcomer is a woman wearing a floral dress, her dark hair up in a bun.

“Miss Swanson, this is Captain Alan Leopold with the Stormwatch PD, and this is Maggie Chassum, our staff psychiatrist.”

“A psychiatrist? I don’t need a shrink. I need to be let out so I can find out what happened.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” Captain Leopold says. “Doctor Edwards says that you can’t recall the accident?”