Page 70 of Taken from Her
"How are you feeling?" Dr. Samira Hassan asked, adjusting the bedside lamp to cast softer light across the private room. The harsh fluorescents had been turned off at Diana's quiet request, creating an atmosphere more conducive to healing than clinical observation.
"Tired," Lavender said, which was true but incomplete. Her body felt heavy with exhaustion that went deeper than physical fatigue, the kind of bone-deep weariness that came from hours of controlled fear followed by overwhelming relief.
Diana's thumb moved across her knuckles, a steady rhythm that counteracted the electronic beeping. She'd changed out of her work gear into civilian clothes someone had brought fromher apartment, but her shoulders still carried tension. Dark circles shadowed her eyes.
"The blood work came back normal," Dr. Hassan continued, consulting her tablet. "Mild dehydration that we've already addressed and no signs of physical trauma beyond some minor bruising on your wrists. Remarkably, you're in excellent condition considering what you've been through."
Lavender glanced at the bandages covering rope burns she'd barely felt during captivity. Adrenaline had muted everything except the need to stay alert, to leave clues Diana would understand, to survive until rescue arrived.
"When can she go home?" Diana asked.
"I'd like to keep her for observation until morning, but if everything remains stable, we’ll discharge her around 8 a.m." Dr. Hassan's expression softened. "You're welcome to stay, Chief Marten. I understand this is your partner."
The word hung in the air between them. Partner. Not colleague or consultant or community liaison, but the simple truth they'd been building toward since Diana first walked through the café's purple door.
"Yes," Diana said without hesitation. "She is."
Something tight in Lavender's chest loosened. After weeks of careful boundaries and professional distance, Diana had claimed their relationship in front of medical staff, hospital administration, and anyone else who might ask. No equivocation, no deflection.
Dr. Hassan made notes on her tablet. "I'll have a cot brought in. Hospital policy allows overnight stays for immediate family, but we can make an exception."
After the doctor left, silence settled between them broken only by distant hospital sounds. Diana's hand remained steady in hers, but Lavender could feel tremors beneath the surface. The woman who'd coordinated two rescue operations on thesame day was finally allowing herself to feel the fear she'd suppressed during the crises.
"So, you found my message," Lavender said, still warm from the knowledge Diana had interpreted her clues.
Diana's voice carried exhaustion layered over relief. "I've never been so grateful for someone's intelligence in my life."
"I knew you'd understand. Even if—" Lavender stopped, unwilling to voice the alternative outcome they'd both been thinking about.
"Even if what?"
"Even if I didn't make it out, I knew you'd understand what I was trying to tell you."
Diana's hand tightened around hers. "Don't. We're not talking about that scenario."
But Lavender needed to say it and process what had driven her to leave coded messages instead of hoping rescue would simply arrive. "I wasn't sure I'd see you again. And the thought that you might not know how much?—"
"Lavender." Diana shifted in her chair, moving closer to the bed. "You're here. We're here. That's what matters."
"I keep thinking about what they wanted from me," Lavender said quietly. "To sabotage everything we'd built together. Stop cooperating with the investigation and close the café."
Diana's jaw tightened. "They understood exactly how to hurt me by targeting you."
"But it didn't work." Lavender studied Diana's face, seeing exhaustion but also something deeper. "You didn't compromise the operation to save me faster. You didn't let your personal feelings for me override your professional judgment."
"I wanted to." Diana's honesty was raw. "Every instinct told me to abandon everything else and come after you immediately. But you left me a message that required thought and strategy, not just reacting on impulse."
"And that's why it worked. Because you trusted our partnership enough to decode what I was telling you instead of just charging ahead." Lavender squeezed Diana's hand. "We really do make each other better. What about the community?”
"Celebrating. Georgia's organizing some kind of feast at the café for when you're ready. Half of Phoenix Ridge is in the waiting room right now."
Lavender felt tears threaten for the first time since her rescue. Not from fear or relief, but from the overwhelming recognition that she'd been missed and that her absence had created a hole in the community she'd spent fifteen years building.
"I want to see them," she said.
"Later. When you've rested and processed this." Diana stood, leaning over to brush silver hair back from Lavender's forehead. The gesture was both tender and possessive. "Right now, you need to heal."
"I need you."
