Chapter 7a

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Maylin felt a bit dead inside. Unemotional. Maybe it was the lack of sleep making her zombie-like. Either way, she was her calm, normal self to Olivia and to Geoffrey, pretending last night hadn't happened. It was probably best that way. It shouldn't have happened.

Ever since they'd left Olivia at the cabin this morning, Geoffrey had been the same cool, professional Dr. Whelan she'd worked with at the clinic these past few months, but there was a brittleness to his manner when he spoke to her. He was probably regretting what he'd done. She wanted to tell him not to worry, that it hadn't mattered to her, but she didn't want to bring it up at all. And she wasn't entirely sure that would be truth.

Except it couldn't matter to her. She had to stay focused.

She had gotten practice in hiding her feelings from her parents, from Sebastian. She used to be good at shoving the emotions into a box and strapping it shut. It was a little harder now, but she had to do it.

"When we get to Kind Samaritan Hospital in San Francisco, if we mention who we are, I worry Cassandra would bolt," Geoffrey said as he drove.

"Do you really think she'd suddenly leave work?"

"Maybe not, but she could hide from us. She could get her coworkers to cover for her."

"She may not have a shift today," Maylin said. "She might be at home or out."

A muscle in his jaw worked, then he said, "When I called him this morning, Liam mentioned he would be able to find her home address, among other things."

"I know you don't want to involve other people—"

"It's too dangerous," he said.

She continued, "We did all right by ourselves, but it's Liam's job to find people who don't want to be found. I'm glad Olivia called him." She looked out the window and added softly, "It might help this to end quickly."

She meant it, and yet she didn't.

Kind Samaritan Hospital, situated on the edge of South San Francisco, was much larger than the one in Napa. They had to park several blocks away and walk past warehouses, small businesses, and a few diners.

There were a few dozen people milling around the waiting area just inside the first floor entrance, some standing around, some sitting, most going to and fro. Some patients, some nurses and doctors. Maylin and Geoffrey waited in line to speak to the receptionist, a woman with a pinched mouth and a long nose through which she heaved forceful sighs quite often as she listened to patients. When it was their turn, they immediately showed her their clinic badges, but it seemed to only make her annoyed.

She huffed a nasal sigh. "What is it you need? We're very busy, here."

"We need to speak to a nurse, Cassandra Wong," Geoffrey said.

Another long-suffering sigh. "I can't look it up on this computer. You'll have to go to Human Resources on the eighth floor and ask them."

Maylin eyed the computer. The woman probably could look it up, but it would take a few steps.

Geoffrey apparently suspected the same, because his eyes glittered coldly. He opened his mouth, but Maylin grabbed his arm and said to the receptionist, "Do we need any sort of visitor's badge to go to Human Resources?"

"Of course not," she said as if Maylin were an idiot.

"Thank you." She dragged Geoffrey away.

"For nothing," Geoffrey muttered.

"It wouldn't have been any use to talk to her any more," Maylin said. "She's the kind of person who believes everyone is out to make her life a living hell. We could have showed up with a fruit basket for her, and she'd still have blamed us for the trash she'd have to throw away."

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