Chapter 3

Aiden arrived early the following day, settling into a chair with a crossword puzzle. Suzi remained asleep until the gentle stirrings of consciousness nudged her awake. Rio, sprawled out on the nearby couch, still slumbered.

“Hey,” Suzi’s voice cut through the quiet room.

“Good morning,” Aiden stumbled over the word, as if contemplating a more affectionate greeting—perhaps “baby” or “sweetie”—before opting for simplicity. “How are you feeling?”

He set aside the crossword book, its pages already half-filled. Suzi knew he’d been at it relentlessly for days. Aiden’s mind never rested; it was a brilliant, ceaseless engine—the kind that left her in awe. She sat up, feeling normal yesterday, and even better today.

“I feel kind of great,” Suzi paused, her smile blooming. “I’m excited to get out of here and see my baby.”

“Yeah,” Aiden’s grin mirrored hers. “She’s waiting for you. When she saw Rio and me the other day, she practically lunged at us.”

He placed a duffle bag at the foot of her bed. “Here are some clothes. Figured you’d be ready for a change.”

Suzi’s skin crawled with hospital residue. “I need a shower. I feel gross.”

“I didn’t bring your toiletries from your apartment,” Aiden explained. “Thought you’d prefer a bath at home. But there’s shower gel and shampoo in there.”

“Yeah, I’ll freshen up,” Suzi agreed.

Swinging her legs over the bed’s edge, she stood. Aiden stepped closer, offering his hand. She slapped it playfully, more high-five than assistance, but held on as she rose.

“I got up a few times last night, so I’m okay on my own.”

“Alright.” Aiden handed her the duffle.

She took it, glancing at the small bag of body jewelry on the side table. The detective’s business card remained untouched. Suzi shuffled toward the bathroom, duffle in one hand, the other pinching her hospital gown closed at the back.

“So undignified,” Suzi’s inner critic, the J personality, chimed in.

“Go on and give him a show!” Annie, the group's brat, laughed. She reveled in her body and its sensuality.

“It’s only a show if he’s looking,” Suzanne, the practical one, added.

“Girl, you know he’s looking!” James said confidently.

Suzi spun as she entered the doorway and smiled quickly as she saw that Aiden was indeed looking. She shut the door behind her, the click echoing in the quiet space. The duffle bag, heavy with memories and choices, landed on the sink. Suzi unzipped it, revealing its contents—a curated collection of her identity.

Aiden knew her too well. The jeans, sweatpants, variety of T-shirts, and delicate undergarments are all laid out like a palette of emotions. He never decided for her; instead, he offered options. Which parts of Suzi would emerge today? Annie, who laughed freely, or Suzanne, the one who wore her vulnerability like armor?

She pulled out the blue jeans, their denim cool against her fingertips. The black sports bra promised strength, while the ‘Sixteen Candles’ T-shirt whispered nostalgia. And then there were the pink Doc Martens—worn but tough, scuffed but stylish, and utterly Suzi. She left the underwear untouched; it felt like an Annie personality day, after all.

The hospital gown slid off her shoulders, and Suzi reached for the washcloth from the towel rack and the small sample-sized bottle of body wash from the shower. She slipped off the hospital gown and proceeded to soak the towel and create suds, then washed her face, armpits, and various other parts of her anatomy.

“Pits, tits, and naughty bits!” the sultry, saucy Annie personality announced to the others.

Suzi washed off the soap, opened the door, and stuck her head out.

“Hey, can I use your toothbrush?” she asked Aiden, not really caring that she was stark naked or if he could see anything.

“Yours is in the side of the bag,” Aiden replied, smiling at her.

“You’re awesome,” she said, shutting the door.

Suzi retrieved her toothbrush and applied a small amount of toothpaste from the tube perched atop Aiden’s bathroom bag. Her hand hesitated on the leather pouch, then she replaced the toothpaste. Shoving the toothbrush into her mouth, she grabbed the bag with both hands and unzipped it.

Predictable. Deodorant. Beard trimmer. Q-tips. A small bottle of Mercedes Black—Suzi spritzed her clothes with it. Mouthwash. His toothbrush container. And his wedding ring. Did he wear it until he arrived here? Her mind raced as she held the ring in her hand.

A knock at the door startled Suzi, and she dropped the ring into the sink. It clanked and clattered against the porcelain.

“Fuck,” she mumbled around the plastic toothbrush.

Aiden called out, “Dr. Parker is here to see you.”

“Just a sec. Be right out,” Suzi replied.

She brushed her teeth, rinsed, and carefully placed her coffin-shaped nipple rings and heart-shaped nose ring back in their appropriate homes. Closing the baggie with the last piece of jewelry that would need reinstallation later, she quickly dressed and examined herself in the mirror.

“Slay, girl!” James shouted sarcastically.

Grabbing the duffle bag, Suzi opened the door. Dr. Parker and Aiden were talking, both glancing at her. Rio sat up, rubbing her eyes—probably craving coffee.

“You certainly look better. No issues last night?” Dr. Parker asked.

“None. No headaches. No pain.”

“No dizziness when standing or weakness? No trouble walking on your own?”

“Nope. I feel pretty good, Doc. A lot better than I have in a long while. I dressed myself and everything.”

“Excellent. I’ll start the discharge paperwork and have the nurses bring it to you. I’d ask that you follow up with your GP in a week or two, and of course, if anything changes, you come right back in.”

“Absolutely.”

Multiple personalities scoffed knowing that they would not be doing that.

Suzi sat in the recliner, plopped the duffle bag on the floor, and tied her boots as the doctor left.

“Wake up, Sleepy Head,” she said to Rio, pushing her knee with a pink boot.

“Bleh,” Rio mumbled, protesting her wakefulness.

Aiden stepped into the bathroom, brushing his teeth. Suzi heard the spritz of cologne.

“We know the paperwork will take a bit, so I’ll run down and grab some coffee and food. Any requests?”

“Coffee,” Suzi and Rio said in unison.

Rio held her hands in front of her head, indicating the size of coffee she wanted.

“As you wish,” Aiden said, looking at Suzi as he left.

Rio gathered her belongings, tucking her notebook and pencil into her small backpack.

“Is that for work?” Suzi asked her daughter.

“Yeah. I’m working on a couple of new personas,” Rio replied.

Rio, a young 21-year-old, hadn’t changed much physically since she was about 13. People had a hard time believing she was 18 when she graduated. She had taken dual-credit college courses during her senior year in criminal justice. Her dream of becoming an Air Marshal shifted when she learned about a group called ‘Missouri Protecting Children from Online Sex Abuse’—or MOPCOSA. Her youthful appearance and desire to be in law enforcement made her an asset.

One of Rio’s tasks was to pretend to be a young girl online to catch adult predators. She had multiple personas, ready to launch depending on the team’s needs and the situation.

“How is that going?” Suzi asked.

“I don’t know. We get so many ACMs, but so few ever really take the bait. We have to be careful so it’s not considered entrapment. It gets frustrating at times but rewarding when we do catch them. I’m becoming close friends with a few of the officers who assist us often and am thinking about joining the academy.”

“Really? That is good. Is that the next step for you?”

“I don’t know yet. Charles wants to get married, but if we do, then what? I can live with him on base, but I can’t be a cop just anywhere, especially in other countries. And I won’t stay looking young and passing as a teen forever. So, I have to do something.”

“Don’t put your dreams on hold, kiddo. I don’t regret my time with your dad, but I do regret not chasing my dreams sooner.”

“I’ll figure something out.”

While waiting for the promised coffee, they sat on the bed and discussed Charles and Rio’s work with MOPCOSA. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door, and it creaked open.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“Hello?” an unknown voice whispered.

“Yes?” Suzi replied.

A hefty, older man stepped into the room, wearing a grey button-up shirt with an askew blue tie, a brown jacket, and slacks. He was followed by a younger man in his mid-30s, taller and fitter than the first, dressed similarly but in much better fashion. The latter carried a manila envelope and a large paper bag.

“Ms. Burch? I am Detective George Bradshaw. This is my partner, Detective Wilson. Do you mind if we ask you a few questions about the events that occurred on the evening of November 23rd?”

“Yeah, no problem at all. They gave me your card, and I would call you today when I was discharged.”

“Do I need to go?” Rio asked, partially standing up from the bed.

“You are?” the older detective asked.

“This is Rio. My daughter,” Suzi clarified.

“I don’t mind if you stay,” Detective Bradshaw told Rio. He faced Suzi fully. “Can you tell us what happened that night?” he asked, as he readied his pen and little notebook.

“I had just met with Dr. Adamson. I was in the lobby waiting for my Uber. Dr. Adamson came down, and I was upset, and…”

“Why were you upset?” Detective Wilson asked.

“We… I had just had an emotional therapy session with him, and he suggested something I didn’t want to do or really hear.”

“Which was?” Bradshaw inquired.

“How is that relevant to his murder?”

“Murder?” Bradshaw asked, surprised. “Who said there was a murder? There was no body. Only you, covered in blood.”

“That is impossible,” Suzi stated, confused, mind racing.

“Maybe, but those are the facts. We are just trying to piece things together. Like whose blood was it? The doctors said you didn’t have a scratch on you. There were no footsteps in or out of the blood when the first responders arrived.”

“What about security cameras?” Rio interjected.

“Security isn’t the greatest in the building. The cameras rarely work, and they were not working that day,” Wilson offered.

“What about witnesses?” Suzi added. “Someone had to have seen something. No one else was in the lobby, but there were people outside.”

“None. Or at least none have come forward. An Uber driver called 9-1-1 and reported it.”

“We were leaving, and Dr. Adamson opened the door for me. A man in a dark hoodie stepped to the door, and Dr. Adamson stepped between him and me. They fought, and a gun went off. That’s all I remember.”

“Can you describe the man?” Wilson inquired.

“We just did, asshole!” the Judy personality exclaimed.

“We… I just did.” Suzi corrected. “It was a split second. I was closing my coat, so I was not looking forward. I’m not even sure it was a man. It could have been a woman. I didn’t see a face. Just the hoodie. Dark. Black maybe. Dark grey? I don’t know. All I could see was the reflection of the door, and even then, I couldn’t really make anything out. A shiny gun or something they were fighting and arguing over.”

“They were arguing. What did they say?” Bradshaw asked.

“I don’t know. I don’t think it was in English. It was low.”

“Anything else you can remember?” Bradshaw requested.

“That is it. After the gun went off, I fainted or blacked out or was knocked out or something.”

Bradshaw pursed his lips for a moment and then put his pen and notebook away.

“Okay.” He handed her another business card. “If you can think of anything else, please call my desk. We’ll be in touch.”

“Here are your personal effects, ma’am.” Wilson handed her the envelope and paper bag.

She began to tear into them as the men approached the door.

“We will question this Dr. Adamson. If he should contact you, please let us know,” the elder detective said.

“Why would he contact me? I don’t know anything about him. I was his patient.”

“If he was injured, he may want to check in on you,” the younger man said.

Bradshaw nodded and touched the brim of his flat hat, and the detectives left the room.

“That is horrible, Mom. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes, baby. I’ve seen worse, believe it or not. Body removals aren’t pretty, and embalming is not a luxurious hobby.”

Spike disagreed. “Lies! All lies! There is nothing like the smell of embalming fluid and freshly polished caskets.”

Suzi stood and emptied the envelope on the bed—her ring, keys, and phone. She put her ring on, cherishing how her wedding renewal band felt back on her finger.

Rio’s stomach churned as she opened the paper bag, only to quickly close it again, gagging.

“Mom—hurk,” she managed, holding the bag out to her mother.

Suzi took it, her eyes widening as she glanced inside. It was her Kate Spade purse, now smeared with blood and bits of what she could only assume was Dr. Adamson.

“Not Princess Kate!” the Judith personality cried out, her distress intense.

“I will try to clean it later,” Suzi said, her voice steady despite the gruesome discovery. Almost instinctively, she opened the bag again, reached into her purse, pulled out her phone, and threw it on the bed alongside her other phone.

Her other phone? She picked up both devices—identical. One belonged to Dr. Adamson, and the other was hers. Both batteries were dead.

“Damn it,” Suzi muttered aloud, her various personalities echoing her frustration.

At least one persona opted for a more precise “Fuck.”

She mulled over what to do with the second phone. Did the police not realize there were two? Did they not find it odd? Should she return it to them?

Aiden entered the room, carrying coffee and a bottle of water. Of course, he’d have water; he was well-rested and didn’t need coffee.

“Are we ready to go?” he asked, oblivious to the tangled web of mystery surrounding them.

* * * * *

The paperwork took its sweet time, stretching the hours until twilight. Suzi, resourceful, borrowed Rio’s phone charger to revive the batteries. Dr. Adamson’s phone was the first to charge. Suzi hesitated, attempting to unlock it without triggering a hard lock. What secrets lay within? Rio, practical, urged her to turn it over to the police.

“But what if there’s something on here that can help?” Suzi countered.

“All the more reason to involve the authorities, Mom,” Rio insisted.

Suzi powered up her own phone. New voicemails and DMs awaited her—a chorus of concern from friends and colleagues. One person, though, was irate because Suzi hadn’t replied.

“Fuck you, Livi,” Suzi muttered.

“Who’s Livi?” Aiden asked.

“Olivia,” Suzi replied snidely. “Nick’s new wife.”

Nick’s first wife, Jatha, had succumbed to Covid during the pandemic. Suzi remembered her severe respiratory issues when they first met, and her passing a few months later. Nick had remarried this year—to Livi, a woman half his age.

“A girl!” the hateful Judy personality chimed in.

“Sugarbaby, more like. Mmm-hmm.” James added.

“She thinks the world revolves around her,” Suzi grumbled curtly.

Aiden’s grin was wicked, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Gotcha. You haven’t told her that it revolves around you yet, eh?” His words hung in the air, a playful challenge.

Suzi couldn’t help herself. She shot him the finger and stuck her tongue out, a rebellious act that felt oddly satisfying.

“So, he remarried after Jatha passed? Hmmm.” The words slipped out, unbidden.

Aiden was making conversation, but Suzi’s mind raced ahead, wondering if he was contemplating getting remarried.

“We are still married,” Suzanne protested, her voice firm. The guilt of Catholic vows clung to her like a shadow.

The nurse bustled in, discharge paperwork in hand. Suzi signed the forms, her fingers trembling. The list of symptoms to watch for blurred together. She grabbed her paper bag, eager to escape the sterile confines.

Aiden held the door open for the nurse, Suzi, and Rio. Rio, her teenage daughter, trailed behind, backpack slung over one shoulder, pillow clutched like a lifeline. The three of them filed into Aiden’s pickup—the same one he’d bought brand new just a year before Reed and Rio graduated high school. The same truck he’d owned when he and Suzi split up.

“When we left him…” Suzanne’s voice echoed in Suzi’s mind, a reminder of the past.

Ever the gentleman, Aiden held the door as she entered the pickup. She missed the way Aiden used to hold the door for her, lean in for a kiss, or sneak a playful grab at her butt. Now, he simply shut the door, leaving her with memories.

Aiden settled into the driver’s seat, starting the truck. “Do we want to go get something to eat?” His question hung in the air, a bridge between their shared history and the present.

“I’ve got to go home and bathe.” Suzi’s exhaustion weighed on her, pulling her toward her apartment.

“I just want to sleep.” Rio’s voice came from the back, muffled by the pillow she collapsed onto.

The drive to Suzi’s apartment took them through the suburban streets, past the Old Joliet Prison. Suzi stared out the window, torn between thoughts of Dr. Adamson and the man beside her. When they were married—

“We are STILL married to him,” Suzanne’s voice intruded again, a loyal echo.

Aiden drove with his left hand on the wheel, tapping his right fingers to the rhythm of the radio. The truck remained unchanged, a relic of their shared past. Suzi’s eyes caught the dash cam—the one she’d insisted he install after a road rage incident. She wanted video evidence, just in case.

They pulled up in front of Suzi’s apartment building. The ground floor housed an art gallery, the artist’s studio above it. The third floor belonged to Suzi—a perch with a remarkable southeastern view. The artist, Ricky, her former stepbrother, had granted her this space. The agreement: pay for a storage locker and schlep his unused belongings.

Aiden parked, opening his door. “I’ll help you carry—”

“No. I’ve got it. I can do it.” Suzi stepped out, clutching her paper bag. She glanced back at Rio, asleep in the back seat. “Just get her back to the hotel, and I’ll see you guys later.”

Aiden nodded, understanding unspoken between them. He closed his door, and Suzi watched as he drove away. The truck faded into the distance, leaving her standing in the quiet of the suburban dusk.

Ricky was nowhere to be found and his gallery shrouded in darkness. Suzi navigated the narrow hallway to the ancient elevator, its accordion gate a relic of bygone days. She pressed the top button for the third floor, and the lift groaned into motion. As it ascended, a sudden impulse seized her. She fished out her phone, fingers dancing across the screen:

‘Thank you.’

‘For everything.’ She quickly added.

The messages winged their way to Aiden, a silent acknowledgment of shared history.

Her apartment greeted her—a cozy 500-square-foot studio. The kitchen boasted a generous island with pristine white countertops. Beyond, the living area stretched, its glass wall framing a breathtaking view. At twilight, Naperville sprawled below, the Chicago skyline a distant sentinel. The sliding barn door separated the living space from the bedroom, and her TV sat idle, reserved for her steadfast companion.

“Hi, Baby!” Suzi’s voice held a mix of relief and affection as she spotted Ygritte, her white fur a beacon of comfort.

The dog’s tail thumped against the couch, a canine welcome. Suzi knelt, rubbing Ygritte’s head, their reunion sweet and familiar.

“Yeah, I missed you too, girl.” The words were soft and meant only for Ygritte’s ears.

In her bedroom, Suzi dropped her bags on the bed. Aiden must have made it—his silent gesture of care. The bathroom beckoned, and she filled the tub, choosing a pina colada-scented bath bomb. Suzi shed her clothes, her gaze lingering on her reflection. Imperfect, yet resilient—a body that had carried her through life’s twists and turns.

“Where was this body 20 years ago?” The question hung in the steamy air. She peeled an anode sticker from her side, a hospital remnant discarded.

“Kids!” Judith’s voice chimed in, a reminder of her internal chorus.

As the water enveloped her, Alexa obliged Suzi’s request for a playlist, belting out ‘Welcome to the Jungle’ by Guns N’ Roses. The warm water lulled Suzi into slumber, dreams dancing on the edges of her consciousness.

When she woke, P!nk’s ‘So What’ anthem blared. The bathwater had cooled, and she adjusted the temperature, luxuriating in the heat. Shaving her legs, she washed away the day’s residue. Her hair received the same care, and as she stepped out of the tub, the blue and white striped towel cocooned her. The scent of pizza wafted from beyond the bathroom door, and curiosity pulled her.

Aiden sat on the couch, Ygritte nestled against him.

“Damn, he is handsome,” Annie’s voice whispered.

“I miss him,” Suzanne confessed, her longing palpable.

“Do not sleep with him,” Judy’s stern tone interjected.

“I thought that maybe you had drowned in there,” Aiden’s voice carried a hint of teasing, the warmth of familiarity threading through the words. “Rio crashed hard, so I left her at the hotel. I figured you hadn’t eaten all day, so I got you a margarita pizza from where we ate that first time we came to Chicago to see ‘Six’ for Rio’s 16th birthday.”

Suzi stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in her towel, and met his gaze. His hands held a slice of pizza, its aroma filling the room. She eagerly extended her hands, a smile tugging at her lips. Aiden placed the slice on a plate, offering it to her.

“He really knows us,” Spike’s voice chimed in, recognizing the thoughtful gesture.

“He smells sooo good,” Suzanne’s breathy admission echoed, her senses attuned to more than just the pizza.

“Pretty sure that is the pizza,” her J personality interjected.

But Annie, ever impulsive, insisted, “Put something in that thing before it closes forever!”

Suzi leaned closer to Aiden, pushing the plate aside. “You know I’ve always been a dessert-first kind of girl.” Her words hung in the air, charged with anticipation.

His blue-grey eyes held hers, and she cupped his face, drawing him toward her. Their lips met—a collision of hunger and memory. The kiss ignited, tongues dancing, a language of longing.

“It has been a dry season for the last couple of years,” Annie’s playful voice teased.

“Girl! Ain’t nothing dry now!” James laughed.

And as Suzi pressed against him, she felt the liquid anticipation—desire pooling, boundaries dissolving.