As soon as I hear the truck pull away, I get out of bed and get dressed.

I didn’t think Alex would leave, but he did. I know he’s not leaving me, we’ve come too far together for that to happen.

Still, we haven’t come far enough. He still won’t share his plan with me. He won’t risk putting me in even the slightest danger, even when he’d greatly benefit from my help.

He doesn’t want me to go back to work because he’s afraid for my safety, even though my disappearing could put actual heat on him.

People might not care about two meth dealers getting murdered by an ex-con, but if a young nurse is kidnapped too? I called in for personal leave days ago, but I also told them I’d be in touch. After Alex trashed my SIM card, I’ve fallen off the face of the planet. If my Mom tried to call me she’d get worried when it went straight to voicemail. Then she might call the hospital to try to get in contact with me–then they’d tell her that I’m visiting her sister. Which she’d know isn’t true. Napier would be right on that, seeing it as confirmation that I’m with Alex.

I need to get back, show myself, make Napier think everything is good. That’s the most I can do to help Alex right now, whether he likes it or not.

I know better than to call an Uber. It would be the easiest way to get home, but it would be easy to track me back to the hotel where Alex is.

Instead I walk a quarter mile or so to the nearest bus stop. I have to take a few connections before I get on the bus that makes the trip out to Lake Diurna.

By the time I walk up to my driveway, I’m yawning in the light of the rising sun. Birds are chirping, but I’m exhausted.

Before I collapse into my own bed for the first time in days, I call into work.

“Angel? You’re not on the schedule for…”

“Put me on,” I say.

“There’s a shift starting in a few hours–”

I yawn loudly. “What about in eight hours?”

“How about six?”

“Yeah,” I say. “That one. I’ll be in.”

* * *

Going back to work is a weird shock. I’m still worried about whatever Alex is up to, but from the moment I clock-in, I’m rushing from patient to patient with no time to think about anything else.

At least until–four or five hours into my shift–I see Napier standing in triage, talking to my supervisor, Beth. She’s arguing with him, and he’s putting on a big friendly smile and holding up his palms to her.

I look up at him and freeze in panic, but for just a moment, I realize I shouldn’t care about him one way or another. I have nothing to hide. I look away from him as if I never saw him and get back to work.

Beth knows my time can’t be spared, and she probably held him off.

I didn’t think he’d come to find me this soon. A woman with kidney stones vomits all over the floor and convulses in pain, and I have to rush her through to find a bed and set her up for a morphine drip.

I have little energy or time to think of what I’m going to say to Napier.

Then, just before my shift ends, and just as I finish with a patient, Beth and Napier are suddenly behind me.

“This man,” Beth says, her voice sassy and annoyed, “Insists on talking to you. I told him you don’t have time, but you’re pretty much done for tonight, and I’m tired of him hassling me. You can clock out when you’re done talking to him.”

“Thank you so much, Elizabeth,” he says in an overly friendly voice.

She rolls her eyes and walks off.

The moment she’s gone, his friendly facade turns cold and vicious as he looks down at me. “Family emergency, huh?”

I nod. “My aunt’s not doing well.”

That much is true. My aunt is not doing well. I visited her a few weekends ago.

“So if I called the nursing home or hospital she’s staying at,” he says. “They’d confirm you were on the guest list for the past few days?”

“I would be,” I lie.

Those records are private. I know, because my deadbeat cousin lied about visiting his mom all the time, and I wanted to see if he really was visiting her. They wouldn’t budge on letting me see the lists. I realize Napier is a cop, but…

“I really don’t know what you think I did,” I say. “Clearly you don’t have a warrant though, or anything on me at all, or you’d have just forced me to come to the station instead of wasting all night to catch me after my shift.”

He glares at me.

Good, so he won’t be able to force them to show the guest list.

“Don’t take my attitude for a sign of guilt, officer,” I say. “I just resent the way you threatened me in my home. I didn’t feel safe, and I thought visiting my aunt would be a good enough excuse to get away for a while. Especially with a murderer on the loose.”

“Oh,” he says. “So who were you afraid of? Me, or the murderer? Which is it?”

“Can’t it be both?” I try to stand up straight, and I meet his eyes.

I’m not afraid of him. I know he’s framing Alex, and I know Alex is innocent. I don’t need to feel guilty here.

“If I helped him like you thought,” I say. “Then I was under duress. He’d have threatened to kill me if I told you anything. But I’m here at work now, he’s clearly not here. I didn’t help him. Now I’m tired, so leave me alone.”

I shove past him, walking toward the computer to punch out.

“Need a lift home?” he shouts over to my back.

I ignore him.

“Where’s your car, Angel? You came back, but I didn’t see your car anywhere near your house. It’s not at any of the mechanics around here either.”

Don’t answer him. Just keep walking. If I really hadn’t helped Alex, I’d be annoyed that he’s harassing me at work when he’s clearly the only cop who thinks I did anything. Hell, I’d probably complain to the department. That feels a bit too much like poking the hornet’s nest with a stick though, so I’ll settle with standing up to Napier and refusing to act scared like he probably wants me to.

I can feel his eyes on me as I walk down the hallway, and even after I turn the corner, I still don’t feel safe.

Dammit, without Alex near me, I do feel scared.