“Who are you?”
Before I could answer, Harlan did.
“Rue Callaway.”
Something happened to Mara’s expression.
It was small.
So small I might have imagined it.
Her lips parted.
Then she looked at her brother.
Harlan gave her the faintest shake of his head.
That bothered me.
“What?”
Neither answered immediately.
I stood.
“What was that?”
Mara recovered first.
“Nothing.”
“That wasn’t nothing.”
Harlan rubbed one hand over his jaw.
“You’ve had a long night.”
“I work double shifts at a diner.
Long nights don’t make me hallucinate.”
Mara almost smiled.
Harlan didn’t.
A doctor entered before either could explain.
“Harlan?”
Everything else vanished from his face.
The doctor smiled.
“She’s stable.”
Harlan stopped breathing for a second.
I watched it happen.
Then he exhaled.
“The episode appears to have been triggered by exertion, cold exposure, and stress,” the doctor continued.
“Her numbers are responding well.
We’re keeping her overnight for observation, but at the moment I don’t see anything that suggests a larger complication.”
“Can I see her?”
“In a few minutes.”
Harlan nodded.
The doctor looked at me.
“Whoever kept her sitting upright and calm did exactly the right thing.”
Harlan’s gaze moved to me again.
This time there was something different in it.
Not suspicion.
Not calculation.
Gratitude.
The kind that made me uncomfortable because I hadn’t done anything extraordinary.
I had heard a child coughing.
I had stopped.
That was all.
At one in the morning, Belle was awake enough to complain that the hospital socks were ugly.
That was when I knew she was going to be fine.
“They have dots,” she informed me solemnly from her bed.
“They’re anti-slip dots.”
“They’re orange.”
“That does seem serious.”
“They don’t match anything.”
Harlan was sitting beside her.
For the first time all night, I saw him smile.
It changed his entire face.
“Your medical crisis is now officially fashion-related.”
Belle frowned at him.
“You don’t understand.”
“Clearly.”
She looked at me.
“You understand.”
“Completely.”
Harlan sighed.
“I’m outnumbered.”
Belle smiled.
Then she noticed my coat folded on the chair.
“That’s yours.”
“It is.”
“You gave it to me.”
“You looked colder than I was.”
Her expression grew serious.
“Thank you.”
Something tightened behind my ribs.
“You’re welcome, Belle.”
“You can have it back now.”
“Very generous.”
She nodded, apparently satisfied.
A nurse came in to check her monitor.
I reached for my coat.
It was time.
Really time.
Harlan followed me into the hallway.
“I’ll have someone drive you home.”
“That isn’t necessary.”
“It’s nearly two.”
“I’ve been outside after two before.”
“That does not make walking across Detroit at two in the morning a sensible transportation plan.”
I looked at him.
“You always talk like a board meeting?”
“Only when I’m tired.”
“That’s unfortunate.”
A surprised laugh escaped from the room behind us.
Mara.
Harlan glanced toward the door.
Then back at me.
“At least let my driver take you.”
I was tired enough to accept.
“Fine.”
“And, Rue—”
Here it came.
The check.
The reward.
The offer that would somehow make what happened in the garage feel like a transaction.
I braced myself.
Instead Harlan said, “You asked what happened when Mara heard your name.”
