Page 29 of Hidden Hero

His gaze dropped to her chest, and she stiffened at his blatant perusal. But before she could say something, he grinned. “I like your shirt.”

Her head jerked back in surprise. “I’m sorry?” She looked down, then chuckled. “Oh. Yeah.” She had forgotten the long-sleeved T-shirt she’d put on was one she had gotten from a medical examiner’s conference. Printed over her chest wasJustice for the departed… closure for the living.

“I had never thought of your job in those terms before, but you’re right.”

She tilted her head to the side. “How did you see my job?”

“Honestly? Just as a support to my job.”

She barked out a scoff. “I hate to tell you, Detective Pickett, we don’t all live to serve you, you know.”

“I know, I know,” he rushed, pink tinging his cheeks above the scruffy jawline that she found more fascinating than she cared to admit. “That was a shitty egocentric concept for me to have. But you’re right. You serve so much more than just to assist us in our investigations.”

They were quiet for a moment, their gazes cast out over the water. He had asked so much about her, and she was curious about the confident man beside her. “And you? Where did you grow up?”

“The western part of Virginia. My parents still live there. My sister, too. She’s married and has three kids.”

“Your parents must love having their grandchildren nearby.”

“They love it. Although, my mom isn’t shy about asking when I’ll give her some. She’s only about your size, but she can throw the guilt out like candy during a holiday parade when she wants to.”

Laughter burst forth at the image of his mom looking up at her tough, thirty-something son and shaking her finger in his face.

“You think I’m joking,” he accused.

“No. I was just imagining her doing that.”

They fell into an easy silence before he asked, “How did you end up out here?”

She looked down at her sneakers and let her mind drift back through memories she sometimes wished she could forget.And other times, I never wanted to forget.“After I obtained my doctorate from Duke University, I completed my internship in a large hospital in Atlanta. I did my residency in clinical pathology. I worked with the Atlanta police and the local FBI since my mentor was brilliant in drug toxicology.” She swallowed deeply and grew quiet.

He gently bumped her shoulder. “And then?”

“And then the pandemic.”

The air hissed from his lips. “Shit, Cora. Oh, fuck.”

No words were spoken for several minutes, both watching as the sun dipped beyond the bay’s horizon. As the evening settled around them, she suddenly felt the need to unburden, saying words she hadn’t spoken in a very long time. “It was beyond horrible. So many people were dying every day. We couldn’t keep up. We were reusing PPEs because we couldn’t get new equipment. It really hit hard when several doctors, nurses, paramedics, and firemen who I knew became sick and died. The morgue was overflowing. There were days we couldn’t go home, so we slept wherever we could. We were like living zombies wandering among the deceased. Jesus, it was unlike anything I’d ever seen. It was unlike anything any of us had ever seen. The morgue and nearby hallways were apocalyptic.”

Her chest heaved with the weight of her memories, and she was grateful that he remained quiet, not filling the silence with platitudes or sympathy. After several minutes, she blew out a long, slow breath. “By the time the pandemic had eased, and the world seemed to return to anewnormal, especially with the deniers, many in healthcare had burned out.”

His voice was low, barely a whisper. “Did you?”

She licked her now dry lips. “Yes. There were days I wasn’t sure I could get up. I was terrified of what would be waiting for me. But there was no time to take off. Eventually, the new normal eased into the healthcare field, and our caseloads returned to pre-pandemic levels. But I didn’t want to work at the large hospital anymore. I wanted a place where I could breathe. A place where… I could sit on the sandy shore and let the sunset wash over me.”

“A place like this.”

Her lips curved slightly, and she twisted her head to look at him. “Yes. A place like this.”

They sat in silence for several minutes, each lost in their thoughts. The evening shadows had descended, and a chilly breeze swept over her.

He sat close enough that his presence felt like a shield against the encroaching chill. His voice was soft when he broke the silence. “You’ve been carrying all that alone, haven’t you?”

Cora swallowed, her throat tightening. “I think a lot of us have. It wasn’t just the work, Jeremy. It was the isolation, the constant fear. And even when it got better, there wasn’t time to process it all. We were just… expected to keep going.”

His jaw tightened, and she could see the flash of anger in his eyes—not at her but for her. “It’s not fair,” he said quietly. “People expect so much from those on the front lines without ever realizing the cost.”

She shrugged. “It’s the job. We chose it.”

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