mine held an edge of hysteria. Nerves were beginning to set in. My breathing caused me to hiccup.
“Drink.” Talan produced a bottle of water out of nowhere and brought it up to my lips. “That’s it, slow. Breathe, Bitty. I’m here. We’re home safe.” Took a few minutes, but between the cool liquid and his hand rubbing soothing circles on my outer thigh, I calmed. “Better?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Let’s get this over with.”
“Only if you are sure that you are indeed able to continue without panicking? There’s always tomorrow, and we can come back.”
“Not necessary.” Looking over at Talan, I tilted my head toward the table. “I’m going to need for you to pass me each one. It’ll hurt to bend over them.”
“Of course, baby. Tell me when.”
“Now.” He did as asked and passed me a single white sheet from the first row, upside down, until it reached my fingers. Turning it over, I closed my eyes, took in a deep breath, and then let my eyes fall over it. “Not her.”
“Are you a hundred percent—”
“Not her, Detective.” I passed him the photo with one hand and with the other asked Talan for more. Same with the two that followed; in looks it came close, but Janice had a tattoo over her neck and collarbones that none of these had. It was unique. Quite beautiful, if I was being honest. “Next.”
For some reason when the final one touched my fingertips, my hand shook. Even before I’d seen it, something told me this was it. Her picture.
Tatt boy’s hand came into focus; his fingertips pushed my face up and toward his. “What’s the matter?”
I let out a huff of frustration. “Anxious.”
“Why?” In my best attempt to hide my uneasiness, I turned my eyes from his. Focused on the glass door where I could see our parents and Marquez talking outside. Wrong move. “Don’t hide from me, Maya. Talk to me.”
“No.” Was I being stubborn? Yes, I won’t deny it.
Fear wasn’t the emotion that was crippling me at the moment, but I was overwhelmed. Came out of nowhere and for some reason I found myself struggling. A never-ending roller coaster: worry, doubt, fear, and sadness mixed in with moments of pure joy. Confused the hell out me.
A burning sensation, as if I had a million and one fire ants traveling down the back of my skull had me almost clutching at my head. Uncomfortable. Made the instability I felt magnified.
No sooner had that word crossed my lips that I found myself sitting astride his lap, strong arms encircling my waist and my head tucked beneath his chin. Engulfed by him. Protected. Loved.
“Stop. We…” he pointed first at himself and then at the detective I had forgotten was still in the room “…are not here to judge you. Hurry you up. Or push you past what you can handle.”
Shrugging, I took in a deep inhale and let it slowly. “I know that, but—”
“But what? What do you need me to do?”
A huff escaped. “Need you.”
Elaboration wasn’t needed. Being independent was something I prided myself on. Now, the fact that I had to ask for help with the simple task of looking at a photo pissed me off. Not at him, but the situation.
“Calm down.” Spoken low, it was whispered into the shell of my ear so as not to be heard by Gulver. It’d been embarrassing enough.
“Thank you.” Kissing his chin once, I nodded and waited for him to make a move. Just like I knew he would, Talan took the paper in my hands and turned it over. Didn’t say a single word, just waited for me to say the words the detective needed to hear.
“It’s her.” My eyes took in how pallid and tired she looked; her hair was dirty and stringy. Nothing like the loud and pretty girl I’d met all those months ago. She looked sick.
“Are you positive?” he asked.
“No doubt. That is Janice Moore.”
“Perfect.” Taking the slightly crumbled sheet from my hands, he wrote something beneath the picture and set it aside, face down on the table. “What about
“Drink.” Talan produced a bottle of water out of nowhere and brought it up to my lips. “That’s it, slow. Breathe, Bitty. I’m here. We’re home safe.” Took a few minutes, but between the cool liquid and his hand rubbing soothing circles on my outer thigh, I calmed. “Better?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Let’s get this over with.”
“Only if you are sure that you are indeed able to continue without panicking? There’s always tomorrow, and we can come back.”
“Not necessary.” Looking over at Talan, I tilted my head toward the table. “I’m going to need for you to pass me each one. It’ll hurt to bend over them.”
“Of course, baby. Tell me when.”
“Now.” He did as asked and passed me a single white sheet from the first row, upside down, until it reached my fingers. Turning it over, I closed my eyes, took in a deep breath, and then let my eyes fall over it. “Not her.”
“Are you a hundred percent—”
“Not her, Detective.” I passed him the photo with one hand and with the other asked Talan for more. Same with the two that followed; in looks it came close, but Janice had a tattoo over her neck and collarbones that none of these had. It was unique. Quite beautiful, if I was being honest. “Next.”
For some reason when the final one touched my fingertips, my hand shook. Even before I’d seen it, something told me this was it. Her picture.
Tatt boy’s hand came into focus; his fingertips pushed my face up and toward his. “What’s the matter?”
I let out a huff of frustration. “Anxious.”
“Why?” In my best attempt to hide my uneasiness, I turned my eyes from his. Focused on the glass door where I could see our parents and Marquez talking outside. Wrong move. “Don’t hide from me, Maya. Talk to me.”
“No.” Was I being stubborn? Yes, I won’t deny it.
Fear wasn’t the emotion that was crippling me at the moment, but I was overwhelmed. Came out of nowhere and for some reason I found myself struggling. A never-ending roller coaster: worry, doubt, fear, and sadness mixed in with moments of pure joy. Confused the hell out me.
A burning sensation, as if I had a million and one fire ants traveling down the back of my skull had me almost clutching at my head. Uncomfortable. Made the instability I felt magnified.
No sooner had that word crossed my lips that I found myself sitting astride his lap, strong arms encircling my waist and my head tucked beneath his chin. Engulfed by him. Protected. Loved.
“Stop. We…” he pointed first at himself and then at the detective I had forgotten was still in the room “…are not here to judge you. Hurry you up. Or push you past what you can handle.”
Shrugging, I took in a deep inhale and let it slowly. “I know that, but—”
“But what? What do you need me to do?”
A huff escaped. “Need you.”
Elaboration wasn’t needed. Being independent was something I prided myself on. Now, the fact that I had to ask for help with the simple task of looking at a photo pissed me off. Not at him, but the situation.
“Calm down.” Spoken low, it was whispered into the shell of my ear so as not to be heard by Gulver. It’d been embarrassing enough.
“Thank you.” Kissing his chin once, I nodded and waited for him to make a move. Just like I knew he would, Talan took the paper in my hands and turned it over. Didn’t say a single word, just waited for me to say the words the detective needed to hear.
“It’s her.” My eyes took in how pallid and tired she looked; her hair was dirty and stringy. Nothing like the loud and pretty girl I’d met all those months ago. She looked sick.
“Are you positive?” he asked.
“No doubt. That is Janice Moore.”
“Perfect.” Taking the slightly crumbled sheet from my hands, he wrote something beneath the picture and set it aside, face down on the table. “What about
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