It was around two PM.

Tanya and I sat on a grassy incline, in the shade of a tree that swayed dramatically and cast blotchy, dancing shadows.

We were just a few paces from the blacktop at the top of the hill, where Diren had parked the car.

Below, we had a full view of the back end of the hospital building.

It wasn’t the biggest hospital I’d ever seen. Certainly not as big as the one I woke up in after the car accident. But there were hundreds of hospital room windows visible from where we were sitting, spanning five floors in height.

Neither Tanya or I had said a word to each other during the rest of the drive. That silence was yet to be broken as we sat quietly, enjoying each other’s company, but also dreading whatever was to come. Unwilling to exacerbate the already complicated situation with more words. Words uttered in passion, and perhaps regretted later.

Diren had walked down the street while he was on the phone with somebody. He moved with an assertive restlessness, as if by physical motion he was causing the world to turn, moving time forward. He was making things happen. Bringing plans into being.

Sater, too, had walked off. In his case, it was toward the gas station just down the street.

Tanya was leaning forward, her legs tucked in against her torso, the crooks of her elbows cradling her knees. Her hair hung in clumps and messy, tangled vines, pulled and tugged by the wind.

She wore jean shorts and a bright-colored Hello Kitty t-shirt.

She slumped until her chin was in the gap between her knees. “I miss him,” she said.

“Mason?” I said.

She gave a half-nod, kind of like a shrug. “Him, too.”

She didn’t have to say who she was primarily referring to.

I had kept seeing his face, like an apparition, ever since that night when Oscar had returned my memories. All throughout my time at Samuel’s facility.

I pulled my knees up to my chest, mirroring Tanya. Despite how sunny it was, there was something cold about that wind. Chilling.

I missed Liam too, though I dared not say so. I had no right to seek any kind of consolation.

Nor did I have any right to console her. To reach out and hold her. To share in her grief.

More than Liam, I missed Oscar. And the way that I missed Oscar, that intense feeling of loss and regret; maybe that was what was my window into understanding at least some of how Tanya felt.

In a way, I had killed Oscar, too. Not unlike how I had spent so much time believing I had in the past. Reality had rearranged itself in the image of my nightmares.

I tried to imagine what Oscar might say if he was here, now. But I couldn’t. He was gone. No amount of coping mechanics would make it better, or give me any kind of real closure. At least for a long time.

“I’m sorry.” I said.

I couldn’t find anything to say on top of that. To extrapolate on what I’d done, to emphasize the awfulness, would be like smooth-talking. Dressing up the truth. Framing it. And that wasn’t for me to do. No amount of self-deprecation would be any good.

Tanya squinted her wet eyelids, lips quivering as she stared out across the grass. “You knew Jackie a lot longer than you knew us. You felt trapped. You didn’t have a choice.”

“I might have.” I said.

Tanya sniffed. She wiped her eyes with the palm of her hand. “You didn’t believe you did. And that doesn’t make it okay. But at least it makes some sort of sense.

“Losing Liam was the worst thing that ever happened to me. And I don’t think I want to lose you, too. It’s the last thing I want. But every time I look at you, I see it. I see it happening. I see you...doing it.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that. Perhaps I just knew that I shouldn’t. It wasn’t something to apologize for. Something to fix, or make better. It simply...was.

“I’ve done so many things I regret,” I said. “I wish I could make things better, somehow. Find some kind of reset. But all I can think about is the things that I did. They hold me back. I can’t...move forward.”

My cheeks were hot with tears. I suddenly felt stupid for sharing. It seemed inappropriate.

Like, what? Was she supposed to tell me it was alright? That everything was going to be okay?

Stupid.

I wiped the tears off my face.

A seagull hovered in the air above the roof of the hospital, a white specter floating in a sea of blue.

“You have to try,” Tanya said.

I turned toward Tanya, blinking, trying to get the blurriness out of my eyes. “Try...what?”

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“To move forward,” Tanya said. “Otherwise, what’s the point?”

The seagull lowered slowly, alighting on the outer edge of the rooftop.

Boot steps on the blacktop signalled Sater’s return. He was holding a case of Newports. He sat at the top of the hill—which surprised me, considering he was wearing fitted dress pants— and held the open case of cigarettes out toward us, offering.

Both Tanya and I shook our heads.

Sater put one of the cigarettes in his mouth. He put the case in the inner breast pocket of his dress jacket, pulled a lighter out of what appeared to be the same pocket, and lit up. As he smoked, strands of his otherwise slicked-back hair bobbed back and forth in the wind, like vaulting poles.

Diren returned, prompting Tanya and I to head back up toward the car.

The ganglord had a triumphant glint in his eyes.

“This is the one,” he said. “She’s here.”

“And you know this...how?” Sater said.

Diren’s look soured a little, as if he’d been hoping he wouldn’t have to divulge the actual source of his information. “Facebook.” He snapped his fingers expectantly in Sater’s direction.

Sater returned this gesture with a glare that lasted a full ten seconds. Still, he handed Diren a cigarette.

Diren used his own lighter to light it.

“The parents of this ‘Jackie’ don’t seem too intent on protecting their privacy,” he said. “Or hers.”

“Great,” I said. “So...what’s the plan?”

Diren exhaled a thick plume of smoke. He clasped the lit cigarette between two fingers. “This.”

And then he punched me in the face.

*****

“What if…” I paused, stopping to hold my head back and temporarily stem the streams of blood emanating from my nostrils. We were just outside the automatic sliding door. “What if the Feds are here, waiting for us? Shouldn’t we come up with some kind of...distraction?”

Diren shrugged. “What if they aren’t?”

“What if- what?”

“Do you always over-think everything?”

That gave me pause. “Actually, yes. Yes, I do.”

Diren already had me by the shoulder and was steering me inexorably toward the sliding door. Sater and Tanya tailed behind.

We were in the wake.

The door made a harsh beeping/honking sound as it swung open. The same sound when it closed behind us.

“Easy,” I said, shrugging Diren off me. He had been practically dragging me forward by the nape of my hoodie—one that he had picked up at a Walmart, thinking it would help disguise my appearance, somehow. “I’m doing it, I’m doing it.”

It was warm inside. Almost uncomfortably so.

As per my experience with hospitals, the ceiling lights were just a tad too bright, legitimately tempting me to put on the pair of shades that Diren had also acquired from Walmart. But having the hood up inside was almost sketchy enough. Putting on the sunglasses would positively identify me as some kind of fugitive. That, or perhaps lead the hospital staff to think I was on drugs of some kind, my pupils dilating painfully. That was a thing, right? I was pretty sure it was.

There were only a dozen or so people waiting in the lobby. Most of the seats were empty. None of those waiting seemed to be in pain or any particular hurry.

We approached the front desk together, outnumbering the clerk four-to-one.

She looked to be in her mid-forties, wearing purple scrubs. She had a long mop of hair that looked—and possibly smelled—like it had been recently permed.

Tanya went first, explaining that there had been an accident, and that she believed my nose might be broken. She also claimed to think that I might have a concussion.

As the clerk started to hand a form to Tanya, explaining how it worked, Sater cut in, asking loudly about parking validation.

While the clerk was focused on the two of them, I took that as my cue to begin slinking away.

As the conversation between Sater and the clerk escalated into what sounded like some kind of argument, Tanya leaned back and gave me a thumbs up.

“Good luck.”

I needed to move quickly. Hopefully the others would cover for me, telling the clerk that I’d just gone to use the restroom, but I didn’t want to take the chance.

In my mind’s eye, I visualized the picture of Jackie that Diren had shown me; the one posted on Facebook. She had been in her hospital bed. There was a view of the window, and it was clear that she was on one of the upper floors, along the back end of the building. The side that Diren had parked next to, earlier.

I avoided the elevator, instead following the signs with stairs on them. This led me to the door leading to the stairwell. As I pushed the door release, there was a loud clicking sound, echoing in the stairwell. By the time the door had slowly snapped shut behind me, I was halfway to the second floor.

I peeked through the small window in the door to the second floor. Saw no one.

I pressed the door release. Slowly. I didn’t want it to snap loudly, echoing in the hallway.

I pushed the door open enough to peek out, and listen. Somewhere around the corner down the hall, I could hear a nurse talking quietly.

Somewhere else, probably a couple corners away, a landline phone rang insistently.

I stepped into the hall and shut the door quietly behind me. I headed off down the hall, in the opposite direction of the talking nurse. I wiped my bleeding nose on the sleeve of my hoodie, which was thankfully dark-red in color.

It didn’t take me long to find her, walking down the hallway that ran along the back of the building, carefully peeking into every room as I went.

I froze as I saw her, peering through the open door to her room. And my breath caught.

She was sitting up in her bed. There were dark circles under her eyes. But she was smiling.

I knew that look. I had felt it. Exhausted. Traumatized. Broken. But still, a part of me feeling like everything might be okay, after all.

Someone in the room said something, and she laughed. Which was my big tip-off that she wasn’t alone.

Jackie’s parents were in the room with her. They stood at the foot of the bed, talking with her. They had likely spent most of their waking hours in this room since the moment they were notified.

Honestly, I don’t know how I could have expected anything else. Of course they would want to be with her. They wouldn’t want to let her out of their sight. They wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon.

I stood just out of sight of both Jackie and her parents, my hand on the doorframe.

This complicated things. Didn’t it? It was different with her parents here. Things could get ugly. The situation could escalate in a way I might not be able to control.

Jackie’s parents might not have known my exact degree of involvement in her disappearance. But the last time they’d seen either of their kids had been just before I’d left their house in the pickup.

Oscar.

My fingers flexed, nails scraping painfully across the metal frame.

They don’t know. Do they?

They might still not. And even if they did, do they know it was you?

My body trembled, as if possessed.

I began to step backward, away from the doorway.

You don’t have to do this, I thought. It’s not necessary. It’s over. Isn’t that enough?

You don’t NEED to do this.

But I stopped, just a couple paces away from the room. The shaking stopped, replaced with a sense of purpose and calm that flowed over me, protecting and caressing, like an aura.

I didn’t need to do this. There was nothing forcing me. No shackles or chains. Not anymore.

But I wanted to.

I reached over. I knocked on the doorframe three times. And I walked into the room.