February 10^th, 2017. 8pm.

Katy sank back down into her chair, gripping the arms. She saw out of the corner of her eyes, Alex’s hand reaching for her back, then Alex stopping the motion and putting her hands in her lap. Katy knew why. Someone was watching, someone was looking. But Katy wanted that reassurance. She needed it. But she wouldn’t reach out, either.

“Tally is currently undergoing a CT scan,” Lisa said, her voice soft. “She was sedated, since she was afraid of the tube.”

Katy nodded, understanding.

“She’ll be a bit groggy when she gets back to the room,” Lisa continued. “Have you been told what to expect?”

Katy hesitated. This time she did feel Alex’s hand on her shoulder, felt her squeeze and then remove her hand. Katy didn’t lean into the reassurance, even though she wanted to. Alex’s touch grounded her and kept Katy tied to reality even when her mind threatened to spiral away. “Kind of.”

Lisa just nodded; there was no judgment in her face.

Katy relaxed, leaning back in the chair. She wanted to reach over and grasp Alex’s hand, but she knew they weren’t there yet. It would have been awkward. She shook herself mentally. Later. There were more important things.

“The paramedics filled me in on what happened in the clearing,” Lisa said. “How do you feel about what happened?”

Part of Katy wanted to laugh, but she wanted to scoff and cry at the same time. That was a complicated question with a complicated answer, but Lisa didn’t pressure her, just sitting there quietly with a clipboard on her lap. “I don’t want her to be afraid of me.” The words were so soft even Katy had trouble hearing them, and she looked down at her hands, shame burning through her face.

Her daughter had been missing three years, and that was what she had to say? Her concern shouldn’t be about herself, it should be about her daughter.

“Whatever you’re feeling, it’s okay.” Alex was the one that spoke, not Lisa, and Katy turned her head to look at her. “People react to things like this in very different ways.” There was a steady look to her eyes, a hint of something glimmering in there that sent reassurance flooding through Katy’s body like a river that had burst through a dam.

Part of her still didn’t believe her, didn’t want to believe the words were true, but for the moment she held onto them like a life raft.

“It’s normal,” Lisa said, nodding her agreement.

Katy exhaled, her breath shakier than she would have liked. But she didn’t beat herself up. Not now, at least. “When can I see her?”

Lisa started talking and Katy just let herself listen. Lisa was talking about trauma, unknown histories, how memories could be changed so easily in children because they were susceptible to outsiders. How if it had been someone who knew her, the memories would warp faster.

“So she doesn’t remember me?” The words caught in Katy’s throat.

Lisa half-shrugged. “She may, she may not.” Her words were kind, but not placating. She wasn’t telling Katy what she wanted to hear, just to be nice. “It may be her memories have been blocked or whoever took her decided to change how she felt about you.”

“Can anything be done about that?” Katy swallowed thickly.

Lisa nodded. “It will take time, as will many things.”

Katy looked down at her hands. She wasn’t certain she wanted to see their faces when she asked the next question. But she forced herself to take a deep breath, raised her head. She was strong. She could do this. “Will she be able to come home?”

“Well, we’re keeping her here for at least a week,” Lisa said, her voice warm. “We’ll see what progress we can make in that time period.”

That wasn’t a no, but it wasn’t a yes, either. Still, Katy clung to it like a drowning woman.

“I’ll let you know when you can come see her.” Lisa reached out and put her hand on Katy’s, squeezed, her face gentle. “I promise.”

Katy nodded, ignoring the way her heart was racing as she watched Lisa go back the way she had come. She wasn’t sure what she thought, what she felt. Her mind was spinning in circles. “I…” She didn’t know how to end that sentence.

“It’s okay.” This time Alex raised her hand, rubbed it across Katy’s back, the gesture as soothing as Katy had hoped it would be.

Katy glanced around, then leaned her head on Alex’s shoulder for a few seconds, letting herself relax into it. It was probably overstepping, ignoring a boundary they really shouldn’t overstep, but she had so little comfort at the moment that she would take it where she could. “Thanks.”

Alex nodded, and then opened her mouth as if she was going to say something.

But Katy’s phone rang, cutting her off. Katy straightened up and pulled it out of her pocket, looking at the caller ID and feeling apprehension swim through her. Her mother was calling, again.

Katy’s gaze flickered up to the TV. They must have seen the news report, must have heard Tally had been found. The daughter, the granddaughter, they’d ignored for years. But part of her wanted to answer. The small part of her that had survived the years apart, who wanted to give them a second chance.

The phone rang again, echoing in the hall. Katy took a deep breath, pressed ‘answer’ and stood, tucking the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, the sound of someone swallowing as if they were surprised. “Katy?”

“Mom?” Katy turned away from Alex without thinking about it, putting her back towards her and hiding what was going on. She knew Alex could probably hear at least her side of the conversation, but she wasn’t going to think about that now.

“Katy.” There was a rush of relief in her voice. “I’m so sorry, love. I’m so sorry.”

Katy gripped the phone tighter, not sure what emotion was filling her. It was some sort of mix of anxiety, hope, fear - did Mom actually mean that? “Why are you calling me?” I didn’t know you had this number, was left unsaid. She had always assumed they had deleted it.

“I saw the news.” Katy heard her mom’s shaky inhale. “They found her? They found our granddaughter?”

Something twisted sourly in Katy’s stomach. “You’ve never once called her that.”

Mom let out a long sigh, something that even sounded painful. “I’ve done a lot of things in my life that I regret,” she said softly. “But nothing I regret more than that.”

Katy wished she could look at her, see whether or not she was lying. Mom had always been easy to read, especially her eyes. But on the phone, all she had to go on was her voice. “Why?” She wasn’t sure exactly what she was asking, what answer she was looking for. There were so many of them.

“Can we come see you?” Mom’s breath caught. “See her. I take it you’re still in Phoenix?”

Katy hesitated. She felt Alex’s hand on the side of her waist, Alex almost holding Katy to her. She leaned into the contact, taking another deep breath. “Okay.” She didn’t know why she said it, didn’t know why she agreed. Maybe she wanted to find a chance to bury the hatchet. Maybe she wanted Tally to grow up knowing her grandparents, instead of knowing them as some nebulous figure. “Yeah, we’re still in Mesa.”

“It probably won’t be for a week or two; we’ll need to get time off. I’ll text you when we get in,” Mom said, almost breathless. “Katy, love…” She trailed off, as if she wasn’t certain what she wanted to say. “Thank you.”

Katy hung up, not sure what to say. God, could the day get any more bizarre? She was still standing there, the phone held loosely in her hand, when she heard rather than felt Alex take a step closer. It wasn’t a pressuring step, it wasn’t probing. It felt more supportive than anything.

“That was my mother,” Katy said, turning to look at Alex out of the corner of her eyes. They’d talked briefly about her family, not in detail. Katy wasn’t sure how much was in her file, either.

Alex studied her, now, their eyes searching each other. Katy didn’t know what she was looking for, but she seemed to find it, for her shoulders sloped downwards and the tension seemed to ebb out of her. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Katy moved back to the chair, tapping on the arm rest and not looking at Alex. “Not really?” Her words were cautious, not certain where Alex would go. Would she ask more questions?

No, that was a stupid assumption. Alex had never pushed, never probed. She had never pushed for more than Katy could give. That was probably a conflict of interest, but Katy didn’t care at the moment.

Alex merely nodded, not saying anything else.

A nurse poked her head through the door. “Miss Sommers?”

“Yes?” Katy stood immediately, almost tipping over when momentum carried her forward.

“We can take you back now.” She came out from behind the door, shaking Katy’s hand and then Alex’s.

Alex pulled out her badge, showed her. “I’m the Special Agent on this case.”

The nurse studied the ID then nodded, gesturing for them to follow.

“She’s just finished up in the CT machine,” the nurse said, leading them down a hallway and towards an elevator. “We’re sending her to the general medical floor, in a corner room. The nurse is settling her in now.”

Katy nodded, numbness threatening to overwhelm her. She was going to go see her daughter. Maybe even talk to her. Her chest felt like it was tied in knots, her body like a spring ready to explode.

“She’s still fairly sedated, so she’ll be out of it for a while.” The nurse pushed the third floor, and they rode the elevator in silence.

“Has anyone talked to her yet?” Alex asked.

Katy’s eyes darted to her, then back to the nurse, who nodded. “Lisa stopped by briefly prior to the CT.”

Katy relaxed a small amount, pressing her fingers to her forehead for a second as if warding off the headache she felt building there. When was the last time she’d eaten? Drank some water?

As if reading her mind Alex said, “I’ll get us some water.” Alex squeezed Katy’s shoulder in support, when the nurse pointed to the room.

“Thanks.” Katy smiled at her, feeling world-weary. She squared her shoulders, taking a deep breath, trying to let some of her nerves fade away. But it didn’t work, not really. She still felt like she was balancing on a knife’s edge, like one little thing would tip her over.

The nurse — Katy looked at her name tag — Rose, stood there, hand on the side of the doorway. She gestured to the small can of antiseptic placed near the doorway.

Almost mechanically, Katy reached out and pressed the heel of her hand to the nozzle, spraying some of it in her hands and rubbing them together. The gel was chilly but oddly reassuring, and it warmed as she finished. If she was taking a few extra seconds to double and triple-check that it had gotten everywhere, well, no one said anything.

Rose grabbed a handful of it as well, then led the way inside.

The room wasn’t quite as bad as Katy had expected. The wall print was safari-like, large cartoon animals dancing across the wall. Even the privacy curtain shielding Tally from the view of people walking by was decorated, although this one was underwater sea creatures.

Katy took another deep breath, almost without meaning to, and her hands curled into fists before she forced herself to relax them. Energy hummed under her skin, hope and fear and anger and a million other things she couldn’t name. Hope that things would get better. Fear they wouldn’t. Anger at whoever had hated them to the point they took her daughter away.

“She’s still sleeping,” Rose said softly. “But you can sit there.” She nodded to one of two chairs in the room, and Katy immediately picked the one near the bed, but a few feet away.

She wanted to get closer, hold her hand, but the scream still echoed in her mind, and the last thing she wanted to do was distress Tally any more than she already had.

“Are you her nurse for the day?” Katy turned to look at Rose, keeping her voice quiet. She watched as Rose stepped closer to the bed, taking her stethoscope out from her pocket and putting the earbuds around her neck.

“Until seven am, yup.” Rose gave her a reassuring smile, and then turned towards Tally.

Katy finally let herself look. Her daughter was there, alive, breathing. Her hair was limp and matted, even though it looked like the paramedics had done their best to take some of the tangles out. Her eyes were closed, but there were purple-blue smudges underneath them like she was exhausted. She looked so small and fragile, dressed in that hospital gown, fading into the bed meant for people bigger than her.

“Here.” Alex’s voice caught her off guard, and Katy turned away, almost jumping. But Alex handed her a bottle of water, which Katy took gratefully.

“Thanks,” she murmured in return, watching Rose talk to Tally as if she were awake, while she listened to her heartbeat and chest. The nurse was good at what she did, something that reassured Katy immensely.

Finally Rose straightened up. “Here’s the call light,” she said, placing a thick control-thing next to Tally’s hand. “If you need anything, you can summon me that way.” She smiled. “Lisa will be coming by later to check on her.”

Katy nodded mutely, turning her gaze back to Tally. She could feel Alex standing behind her, off to her side. Supportive and guarding her back. It was ridiculous, how closely bonded they had become in such a short time. But heightened emotions did that.

Would they still be there when the adrenaline faded? That was the question.

“Thanks,” Alex said to Rose, who nodded and then left the room.

Katy exhaled in a rush, leaning as far forward as she dared in the chair, trying to get closer to her daughter without risking waking her up or scaring her. They didn’t know the origin of the scream, didn’t know why she was unhappy, and Katy didn’t want to risk a thing.

“Someone from the PD will be outside her room 24/7,” Alex murmured, her voice just loud enough for Katy to hear.

Katy nodded gratefully, part of the tension in her chest escaping at the thought they were taking her daughter’s safety so seriously. “Thanks,” Katy said, reaching out and pulling the second chair closer. Alex looked from it to her, and Katy could see the hesitation in her eyes. “Please.”

Alex nodded once, bit her lip, then sat down, crossing one leg over the other and leaning back in the chair. They were close enough that they could touch, but Katy wasn’t certain what Alex would be comfortable with.

Instead, she reached over until her hand was draped over the side of Alex’s armrest. Not touching her, not quite, but close enough that Katy felt the warmth of her body. Enough that Katy felt a wave of reassurance go through her.

“It’ll be okay,” Alex said softly. She reached over and squeezed Katy’s hand, sparking lightning that raced up her skin. “Is it okay if I run and get us some dinner?”

Katy turned to smile at her, and as tired as it was, there was hope behind it. “That would be lovely.” Things would be okay. It may take time, but they would get better. Katy had to believe that.