Detective Park glared at us. “I thought I told you to stay out of this. Do you not remember how dangerous it was last time?” He held out his gloved hand for the notes and we handed them back. “These were definitely sent by the same person as the other notes. I’m just waiting on results from the fingerprints. One of the other officers is handling that and is supposed to let me know once they’re in. I can’t bring in Oskar Weinman until we have that final bit of evidence, unfortunately, but with this new evidence against him, I can push to expedite the process.”
“So that’s it? We just sit around and wait and hope he doesn’t come after us until those results come in?” I asked.
“I have officers watching both your houses, as well as the cafe and restaurant during working hours. As long as you both stay vigilant and stick together, I’m sure we’ll get our man.” At our skeptical looks he added, “I’m sorry, but until all the proper paperwork is in order, we can’t make a move. We can’t afford to make any mistakes on such a high-profile case. But I promise you, I’m doing all I can to keep you two safe. Now are you ready to head out? I’ll escort you home.”
As Bernadette and I grabbed our bags, Detective Park said, “By the way, Lila, Dr. Kang says you still haven’t called her. I think talking to her will help you with this waiting period, so you don’t fret too much. I—where are you going?”
“I just remembered I needed to talk to Sana about something. You two go on. I can have her drop me at home.”
Before he could stop me, I hurried out of the studio and up the stairs to Sana’s apartment. I pounded on the door, glancing behind me to make sure he wasn’t following me, and slipped inside once she opened the door.
“Lila? Can I help you?” Sana stood at the open door and glanced down to see the detective staring up at us and Bernadette on the landing. “Oh, hi, Detective. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure they get home OK,” she called down the stairs before moving aside to let Bernadette in and shutting the door.
“Thank you so, so much. Sorry for just bursting in on you like this, but I couldn’t deal with being around him anymore,” I said. “Ate Bernie, you should probably get going. I bet your mom’s worried about you.”
Bernadette snorted. “And Tita Rosie and Lola Flor won’t be? We can call our families later. What’s going on with you?”
“Yeah, Lila, are you OK? Is he . . . Are you . . .” Sana hesitated, not sure which delicate question to ask first.
“No, it’s nothing like that. I’m just annoyed with him right now. He won’t shut up about this therapist he wants me to talk to. But I’m fine.”
Bernadette said, “You are not fine,” at the same time that Sana said, “Are you sure? I know that we only met recently, but even I can tell that some of your behavior has been a little . . . erratic lately.”
I scoffed. “Erratic how?”
Bernadette raised an eyebrow. “Lila, you had a panic attack and punched that reporter when he grabbed your arm.”
“Yeah, well, he shouldn’t have touched me without my consent.”
Sana nodded. “True, but I’m guessing that there’s more to it than that?”
I focused on taking off my shoes so I didn’t have to look at her. “What did Detective Park want to talk to you about?”
“If you want me to open up, I expect you to do the same.”
I crossed my arms. “I’m fine. It’s just that sometimes little things happen that remind me of what happened a few months ago.”
Her face took on a sympathetic look and she gestured to her couch. After I sat down and Bernadette settled herself on the floor, Sana poured us each a glass of cold-pressed juice and joined me on the couch. “I’m guessing you mean your ex-boyfriend’s murder?”
I flinched. “Yeah. Detective Park kept it out of the papers, but I almost died. Adeena, too. How do I just move on from that? How do I just pretend that everything’s the same as before? The killer held Adeena hostage and she’s still kicking butt and taking names. Why am I the only one who can’t move on?”
Months and months of frustration and guilt and shame just poured out of me, a catharsis I hadn’t realized I’d needed. Sana and Bernadette just sat there and listened, not butting in, not offering their opinion, and from what I could tell, not judging me. Was this what it was like to talk to a therapist?
As if reading my mind, Sana said, “Why haven’t you seen a therapist about this? It seems like Detective Park has done a lot of research to find someone willing to help you. Is it the cost? I know it’s not cheap.”