“It’s protocol.”
“Oh, right,” I said, still not feeling reassured.
On the drive to Patrick’s house, I stared straight ahead, reliving what had happened. Breath after breath, I struggled to draw in air.
Patrick pulled over to the side of the road.
“June, talk to me.”
Traffic whizzed by, but Patrick didn’t seem to care. He focused on me.
“David Moreno,” I said, trembling, but not from being cold. “What if he dies?”
“We’ll have to wait and see how he fares.”
I shook my head. “I can’t. I won’t be able to sleep. Eat. I may have committed murder.”
“He was alive when the paramedics took him. If he does, by chance, pass away, your reaction was in self-defense.”
“I can’t reconcile with having killed someone.”
“You will, if you have to.”
“I can’t stand feeling like this. I need something. A tranquilizer.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I do. Just one. I’ll call my doctor.”
“June, no.”
“Please don’t tell me no. You don’t know what it’s like for me to picture that pale, unarmed man crumple because of what I did.”
Patrick rubbed his forehead. His brows were heavy.
“You do know.”
“Not everything goes according to plan. Unfortunately.”
“I’m sorry, Patrick.”
“June, you are one of the most caring and sensitive people I’ve ever met. Try to stop flagellating yourself.”
“I don’t know how not to. The guilt is consuming me.”
“How about we find out how David Moreno is doing. Right now. Are you up for a detour?” Patrick asked.
“To St. Eugene’s?”
“Yes.”
“I’d rather not.” And then I thought more about it. I needed to know how David was doing. No matter what his crimes were, I didn’t think I could deal with being responsible for taking a life, unless he had been charging at me with a weapon. But on the flip side, if he recovered, after I’d been afraid for so long, I wanted to make sure they secured him in custody. “If we go to the hospital, we wouldn’t actually see him, right? We’ll just ask at the front desk?”
“Whatever you’re comfortable with.”
“Okay. I changed my mind. I’m in.”
“I’ll be with you all the way.”