Lydia stared at her mother for several moments before she asked, "Did she have anything with her? Personal effects?"

The doctor looked over her clipboard before nodding. "Yes, let me get them."

I wanted to ask Lydia what I could do for her. I wanted to reach out and hold her. I wanted to tell her something that could make her feel better. But, I knew none of those things were going to help the situation.

The doctor came back with a small box and handed it to Lydia. She sat down on the chair behind her and held the box on her lap.

She started pulling out pictures of her brothers and her father. There were other little trinkets and keepsakes. Nothing that seemed to hold any memory of Lydia.

Then she pulled out an envelope with her name on it. It was sealed and she just stared at it.

"You should open it," I said in a calm voice.

She looked up with a startled expression; as if she thought she was alone. She quickly put everything back in the box and stood up in front of me. "If it's okay, I'd like to look at this stuff...alone. Please."

"Yeah, of course," I said as I reached out to stroke her cheek. "I'll wait out front for you. Take your time."

"Thanks." She stepped out of my touch and turned away from me.

I walked to the front like a ghost. My mind was racing, people were talking to me; asking me questions. But I didn't hear them over the static ringing in my ears. I finally made it to the double doors that lead to the fresh air I so desperately needed. I sucked in a deep breath, trying to replace the horrid stench of death with something...alive.

I started pacing on the long driveway. I felt regret that I didn't reach out to Anne with this sooner. Maybe we would have been able to find her mother-- Alive. Knowing Lydia, she is feeling devastated. Even with everything her mother did to her, it was still her mother.

She wasn't going to handle this well. No one would. Hell, even I still have trouble with the death of my parents. I still feel responsible for putting them on that plane. I still feel anguish over the fact that I survived and they didn't. Not to mention, I was still dealing with this James crap. It looked more and more like he was going to press charges against me. If so, I was probably going to have to do some time. Maybe that's how it's supposed to be. I did commit a crime by assaulting him. Maybe penance was what I needed. Maybe that would help take away the guilt for my parents, too.

The ringing of my cell phone brought me back to the current issue. "Hey, Anne," I said into the receiver as I ran my hand over my face.

"Mr. Williams, were you able to confirm or deny if..."

I knew what she was asking. "Yes. It was her."

I heard Anne's sharp gasp through phone. "I'm so sorry. Is she-- Alright?"

She was nowhere near alright. "It's bad, Anne. She's taking this hard."

"It was her mother," Anne said.

"I know. I just...wish there was something I could do to help her."

"Just be there for her, Mr. Williams. You've gotten to know her and you know what she needs."

A small laugh escaped me. "I do know her. I'm surprised she hasn't run--"

My heart stopped dead in my chest. Oh, God...

"If it's okay, I'd like to look at this stuff...alone. Please," she had said.

"Mr. Williams? Is everything okay?"

"No, it's not. I need to go, please keep your phone on and I'll call you back."

I ran back inside and made my way to the back room where I left her. The attendant at the front desk attempted to stop me as I barreled through the double doors.

When I finally made it back to the medical examiner's office, I looked around frantically and Lydia was nowhere in sight. "Lydia!"

Dr. Rowe came out of her office with a concerned expression. "Is everything okay?"

My head swung in her direction and by her expression I knew how I just have looked. "Do you know where she went?" I asked desperately.

The doctor pointed behind her. "There's a room back there. She said she wanted quiet."

Of course she did, I thought. "Is there a door that leads outside?"

"Yes."

"God dammit, Lydia!" It wasn't the fact that she ran off that has me reaching for my cell phone. It had to do with the fact that she ran off and the call I got from New Orleans P.D. yesterday that I kept from her.

Fear overwhelmed me as I dialed the only person who might be able to help me.

"Hello?"

"Michael, it's Sean. How fast can you get on a plane?"

 How fast can you get on a plane?"

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