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She nods. “No one could find anything.”
Except, there’s a shift to her tone. A subtle clenching of her jaw. She’s lying. “Any chance you are willing to let me have a look at those?”
“Mr. Granger, I appreciate your attempt at clearing things up, but unless you are a police officer with a warrant, I won’t be allowing you anywhere near those cameras. The privacy of our residents is taken very seriously here at Pine Meadow.”
Ryker arches a brow. “Not a problem. Dahlia, let’s get going.” I open the door, and José steps to the side. But before Dahlia moves through it, she turns toward June.
“You know, I worked harder than most people here. I gave you my weekends, holidays, and I was never anything but professional. I may not be able to remember the last two weeks, but I know myself. And that’s the core of who I am.”
With that, she heads out the door. June’s expression darkens slightly, a sort of cloud hanging over her.
As I pass José, he glares at me, then moves into the office with June and shuts the door. I follow Dahlia down the hall, noting that two other security guards are waiting at the end for us.
Right before we head out the front, though, a woman calls out, “Dahlia!”
Dahlia turns as an elderly woman in a wheelchair rolls toward her as fast as she can, an employee just behind her.
“Mrs. Marooney! You have to slow down!” the woman wearing baby blue scrubs calls out, her cheeks red.
“Dahlia, I need to speak with you right now.”
“Miss Swanson is just leaving,” one of the security guards says.
Mrs. Marooney pins him with a look that would have had even me backing down. “I live here. Which means the money I give this place pays your salary, young man. So, if I say I need to speak with a guest, you will not deny me. Understood?”
“Ma’am, I have my orders.”
“Dahlia is my guest. The residential agreement says I am allowed to have visitors, does it not?”
“You can have guests, but they have to be accompanied by a family member.”
Mrs. Marooney smiles at me. “As it turns out, she is. This is my nephew—”
“Ryker,” I say with my own grin. “How are you, Auntie?”
“Oh, fantastic now that you’re here. And with your girlfriend, how nice.” Mrs. Marooney reaches up for Dahlia’s hand. “You remember the way to my room, don’t you? Be a dear and help me there.”
“Mrs. Marooney—” the nurse starts.
“Nope. I am still of sound mind, young lady. Which means I am allowed to make my own decisions.”
“I’ve got it,” I say as I step behind the wheelchair. “Lead the way, honey,” I add to Dahlia.
She swallows hard, her cheeks turning a soft shade of pink. Which, of course, only makes me wish I could say it all over again just to keep that color on her face.
Dahlia starts walking, and I follow, pushing Mrs. Marooney down the hall.
We reach the elevator, and Dahlia starts to reach for it, but Mrs. Marooney shakes her head. “They’re going to be looking for you in my room. Keep pushing down the hall and through the side door.”
“Outside?”
Mrs. Marooney looks up at Dahlia. “I haven’t had my afternoon walk just yet. I think now is the perfect time to take it.”
Chapter 18
Dahlia
Despite the bright afternoon sunlight overhead, there’s a dark cloud hanging over my head. How can June look at me like that? Like I’m a criminal? Surely, I hadn’t changed that much. I’ve always been a good person, right? I’ve always tried to do the right thing and take care of others, the way Jesus calls us to do.
