Page 41 of Sinister Secrets

She shakes her head, fingers tightening painfully around mine at the thought of what might have happened if she had been. How much worse this could have been. Things can be replaced, but when parts of ourselves get broken, sometimes they’re impossible to fully repair. I should know.

“What can I do?”

Her hopeless glance around the room is my answer.

“Did the police say how long it would take for them to get here?”

“I didn’t call them.”

I wonder if she’s in shock. I look around for my phone, spot it on the floor beside me, taping this entire horrible, traumatic conversation. I stab the button on the screen, stopping the recording. Take a deep breath, organizing my thoughts as I begin to dial.

“No.”

Dr. Evangeline curls her hand around my wrist, stopping me.

“Before you do that, there’s something we need to discuss.” Her eyes leave mine, refusing to answer my questioning gaze as she says, “Go look at my desk.”

I stand up slowly. Cross the room reluctantly, detritus I know I shouldn’t be stepping on, possible evidence, crushing under the soles of my boots as I cross the room, trying to brace myself for what I’m about to see. Swallowing against the lump in my throat, I prepare my stomach for a bloody body part—but spot a manila folder instead. One with my name written on it.

“I don’t understand. Is that my patient file?”

She nods.

“Are you giving it to me?”

Her lips tremble. “I can’t.”

“Then why’d you want me to see it? What’s the point?’

“No, I mean I literally can’t, Cassidy. Whoever broke in took it. Everything that was inside.”

“Did they take all your patient notes?”

“No. Just yours,” she whispers.

“What was in it?”

But she doesn’t answer. Instead, Dr. Evangeline shivers, glancing around the room with an expression that says she’ll never feel safe again. I think we both know that everything that’s happened here is all my fault. Which means I need to find a way to make it right.

CHAPTER 23

I’m trying to stay out of my own head, but I’ve never been good at that. I’ve never been good at compartmentalizing either, even though being able to leave a case at work at the end of the day and giving yourself a little downtime is crucial when you’re in law enforcement. If you don’t, you’ll drive yourself crazy. Maybe that’s why I swear I can smell burning rubber from my wheels spinning so fast.

On some level I know that what happened at Dr. Evangeline’s office isn’t my fault, but I still can’t help feeling responsible. Whoever broke in was there because of me. Now, they know things about my past. My personal life. My weaknesses.

There are any number of ways they could use the information against me, and each one I think of makes me more nauseous than the last. I desperately need to find a way to shut my brain off for a while.

I stare at the page in front of me, though I don’t see the words but the doctor’s stricken face. The guilt is eating away at me, eroding my insides. I know I have to let it out, but as I once again slide my eyes to Jake beside me, I can’t bring myself to say the words.

It’s not that I don’t trust him to say all the right things. It’s that I know he’ll worry. He has enough going on without being bogged down under the weight of my endless problems. I get tired of adding to his burden.

“Last one,” he says, pressing a kiss to the side of my head, and another stone of guilt lodges inside me that he thinks I’m being impatient with him. He’s just doing his job, responding to emails that built up during his meetings today.

“There’s no rush,” I say.

But when his hand slides from the keyboard on his lap to my thigh, I can’t help curling against him on the couch. Just the feel of his solid presence against me is calming. Resting my head against his shoulder, the page I’ve been staring at finally comes into focus and I can see that my Kindle screen has timed out.

“But there is.” He voices the same words echoing inside my head.