Page 16 of Love What's Left
“Where’s home?” Price asks Sydney.
Sydney shrugs. “This address . . . is on my . . . license.” She leaves the word “apparently”hanging silently for only me to hear.
“Can you tell me your name?” Price asks.
“My name is Sydney Walsh McRae.” Not a hint of hesitation.
“Did your husband hurt you?” Price asks.
Sydney’s gaze rakes over me, and it’s my turn to stop breathing. If she thinks I’m Markov, we’ve both got a mess on our hands. Finally, she shakes her head and chooses to answer with strict honesty. “No. He gave me a cat.”
“Do you want to hurt Gabriel?”
Her eyes, already glassy, practically glaze over. “Never.”
“Do you have thoughts about hurting yourself?” Price asks.
“Hell, no. You can . . . leave now.”
She’s never had patience for anyone who wastes her time.
“Would you like to get checked out at a hospital?” Price asks.
Sydney’s entire body tenses as though she was offered a firing squad, not medical care. “No.”
“You told the 911 dispatcher that you were seventeen years old. Do you still believe that?” Price asks more gently than I’d have thought her capable of.
Sydney eyes her like she sees straight through her. As though the police officer has now become an enemy trying to trick her. “I was . . . confused. I . . . w-want to stay here.”
The lie in her voice hits me like a punch to the sternum. She’s telling them whatever she thinks they need to hear, trying to “be good” because she’s afraid of walls closing her in. Of straps and needles.
“I can arrange to have someone with her 24/7, and she’ll be under medical and psychiatric care with me. Is it really necessary to jump straight to a psych hold?” I ask, my mouth dry.
Sydney narrows her eyes at me. “No hospital.”
“Under the circumstances, a hospitalization may do more harm than good. She needs familiar safety, a low-stress environment, and time to recover,” Josh says.
“Sydney, if you want to go to my sister’s house, instead, or stay with my parents, you can. You could stay with your friend, Janessa. Whatever you need,” I say, nauseous at the thought of being separated from her but unwilling to frighten her.
Sydney turns her head toward the door. Her hesitation lasts seconds that feel like minutes. Rufus jumps into her lap, and she looks down at the cat before rubbing his head. “No.”
Riley looks my way. “We’re calling this resolved, but if she makes another report, we’re coming back with EMS. You know this was enough for a seventy-two-hour hold. If she needs it, she needs it.”
“I understand that.” I walk them through the bedroom door and into the hallway.
Riley turns back and clears his throat. “I saw the files. It wouldn’t have ended up our jurisdiction,” he says defensively. “But we shoulda looked harder and gotten her case in the right hands,” he admits.
Does he expect absolution from me?“My head of security will escort you to the elevator.”
He blows out a short breath. “Right. My point is, we let her down once, but we won’t do it again.”
“I’mglad to hear it.”
They leave, and I return to find Josh assisting Sydney into her narrow hospital bed. She moves with the sort of false calm that comes from whatever drug he administered. It isn’t real.
He steps to the switch on the wall and dims the lights. I join Sydney and sit on the edge of her bed, tucking the blankets around her.
Eyes closed, she demands, “Cat.”
