Page 3 of Badges
When I push open the door to the room, it takes me a moment to lock onto the thin form beneath the blankets.
But when the woman’s obsidian eyes lock on me, a shard of ice races down my spine.
Footsteps behind me are short warning of Paige approaching.
Those dark pools narrow as the ghost of my past resurrects itself from the hidden box I’ve fought to keep locked tight.
Paige clears her throat. “Her name is—”
“Maria—” I exhale.
“—Elena Evans.” Paige finishes from next to me.
Fucking Christ.
It’sherdaughter.
Who?
Elena
I am so fucked.
Now what am I supposed to do? I’m handcuffed to a stretcher in a town I swore I’d never return to.
Staring up at the ceiling after getting x-rays doesn’t make the time go any faster.
What’s going to happen to Cynthia when I don’t answer my phone?
When the door flies open, I hope it’s that hot-ass doctor with the mustache.
Shit.
It’s a cop.
And he’s huge. His shoulders are wider than the end of the bed with a broad tan cowboy hat pulled low over his eyes.
But when he tilts his head back, they widen as if he’s seen a ghost.
Why does he look vaguely familiar?
Probably an old family friend. Well, back when Ihadone.
His thick red beard drops open as he stares at me.
What the hell is his problem?“Maria—” His voice sounds strangled, like he’s choking on the bleach-soaked air.
That’s my mom. Why is he calling me that?
“Her name is Elena Evans.” A dark haired female officer appears at his elbow, flipping me a not-so-subtle glare.
How does she know that?
I guess it doesn’t matter.
His meaty fist balls at his thigh, then the brim of his hat drops, hiding his face again.
“Deputy,” he finally rasps. “Give us a minute.”
