I saw it.
A laundromat was tucked away on the corner across the giant intersection before people turned into the hockey arena.
“I think I know where she is.”
“Where is she?”
“I’ll call you later.” I motioned to my guys. “I gotta go over there.”
“You need to clean some clothes?” Atwater scratched his forehead, frowning.
Labrowski was back on the phone.
I asked him, “That Angela?”
He nodded to me. “She didn’t know Carrington threatened Mara, and she’s livid. Not at Mara, at Flynn. She also thinks it was Bianca and her roommate who let everything leak about Flynn first being arrested and now this. She found out that Bianca has been talking to Flynn all week. Confronted her and the roommate folded, told her everything and showed her all the emails, DMs, and texts. Apparently Flynn was using Bianca to get close to Angela’s roommate. Angela hadn’t been talking to B since this happened, so she buddied up to the roommate. There’s a lot of bad shit Flynn was saying about Angela. I have to go back. Angela’s going to move in with us until we can figure out a new rooming situation for her.”
“Score. Cupcakes every day!” Atwater pumped his fist in the air.
Labrowski shot him a grin, but added, “I’m sorry, Cruz. I–” He motioned to his phone. “I gotta go.”
I nodded. “That’s fine.”
“Here.” Barclay tossed him his keys.
“What are these for?” Labrowski caught them before tucking them into his pocket.
That was our way home. One of his buddies drove it here, and we were going to drive it back.
Barclay waved at him, nonchalantly. “So many people drove here. We’ll figure a way home tomorrow and if not, we’ll rent a vehicle. Take it. Go back and help your girl move.”
Labrowski stilled, hearing that terminology.
He only blinked a few times before jerking his head up. “Thanks, man. I appreciate it.” He indicated the parking lot. “Is it here?”
“It’s at the hotel. Shit. I didn’t think about that.”
“It’s okay.” Labrowski started moving toward some student we knew. “I’ll get a ride. Go.” He waved at me. “Go and get your girl. I’ll be good.”
“Fill up the tank of gas!” Barclay yelled at him.
Labrowski held a hand up in acknowledgement, taking off.
Atwater raised an eyebrow at me. “One crisis fixed. Another on deck. Let’s go and take care of Daniels.”
Shit just got heavy, real heavy, but I led the way to the sidewalk, then the intersection. We waited to cross. I kept waving as vehicles were leaving, saying congratulations to us, and to me. A few paused to see if we needed a ride somewhere. Atwater took care of them, and then our walking light went on. We hurried across and had to wait one more time. The same thing happened on this way, but it was more Cain people. I was guessing this street led to the student housing. But then the walking light went on again, and we crossed.
Going into the laundromat, I saw one woman in the corner putting clothes into a washer. Another woman was reading a book behind a plexiglass and in a back office. She looked up our way, stared at me, before pointing in the far corner.
I looked but didn’t see anything.
I walked forward, holding a hand back to Atwater and Barclay to wait by the door.
I kept going until I could see a mat was in the corner. There was a tiny section between the wall and dryers. It wasn’t enough room for them to fit in another set of dryers, so it was left, but on that mat, was Mara.
She was slouched down. The top of her back was resting against the dryer. Her butt and half her leg was on the mat, and she had a foot wedged up against the wall. She was staring ahead, because there was a narrow window by the corner of her wall and next to a washer. The window ran all the way to the floor and to the ceiling, and she was gazing out, a set and distant expression on her face.
I dropped down next to her.
She didn’t look at me. I didn’t know if she knew I was there.
There was no reaction on her face, or body. Nothing. It was like she was a statue.
I murmured, “Mara.”
49
MARA
I remembered that day.
I’d been standing in front of the Fallen Crest hospital, not knowing if I was ready to go in or not.
The doors slid open, and a cop exited the hospital doors.
He’d been raising a white foam cup, steaming, to his mouth for a sip, but seeing me, he paused. Lowering it, he came the rest of the way. I knew him, recognizing him from so many other “mother” moments. As cops went in Fallen Crest, this one was kind. “Mara,” he said, drawing close enough for him to study my face, and since he was a cop, he was seeing everything. They were trained that way. He gave a small frown and extended his cup. “They weren’t supposed to call you.”
I nodded, feeling dazed but also not sure why I was dazed by this anymore. “It’s on the file.”
He grunted. “They’re trained to protect the patient against anyone trying to get to them. Not the other way around.”
“Yeah.” I knew this. And again, not surprised anymore. I glanced at him, noting some extra tired lines around his eyes. “You got called in for her?”
“I did. Hospital called, but since I’m familiar with you and her, and the situation, I can tell you it doesn’t look like a real attempt. Two cuts on her wrists, horizontal and shallow. Looked scary, I’m sure, and I can also tell you that was probably the motivating factor for why the nurse contacted you the way she did.”
I was nodding, also knowing all of this.
I’m sure she looked at my mom’s file, saw my number was not there, and didn’t read where it said not to contact her daughter. And the nurse knew me from school even though she was a few years older, she’d been in the party crowd. She got my number from someone else who didn’t know the situation and there you have it. I got an alarmed not-really-friend from high school calling me to tell me about my mom’s suicide attempt.
Hearing what Officer Pullen just told me, my mouth went dry.
“My dad in there?”
His eyes narrowed, just for a brief moment before an impassive look came back over him. “You didn’t reach out?”
I shook my head. He knew the deal. If I had, my dad would’ve told me not to come. I hadn’t wanted to hear it.
“He’s in there.”
A nurse came out.
She had a shawl over her shoulders, and she wrapped it around her before her hands went in her scrub’s front pockets. I heard keys jangling from the motion. “I know a part of you is worried and I can tell you that your mom’s going to be just fine.”
I gestured to Officer Pullen. “He said they were shallow cuts.”
“They were. Your mom knows. She knew how to make it look.”
My dad looked at me, a deep determination and resignation filling his gaze. “I’m going to talk to a lawyer, see if I can get a temporary conservatorship over her, make her stay in a hospital for a while.”
My whole chest tightened up.
He raked a hand through his hair. “She’s done enough damage to herself and you.”
He wasn’t including himself, but he was so very much included.