Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106422 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Her phone buzzed.
She glanced down, unsurprised to see Bobby’s smiling face populating the screen. She’d taken the photo the day of his wedding, happy that he’d now be focusing all his attention on his new bride. Shumi seemed to like the jealous intensity of his attention, and Diya was more than ready for the other woman to have all of it.
But, no, Bobby hadn’t backed off an inch when it came to Diya.
She declined the call as she’d declined multiple others in the past hour.
But of course her neurotically overprotective brother couldn’t let it go. He sent her a text: I’m coming to LA to bring you home.
Face hot, Diya picked up her phone, her fingers flying over the keyboard: Good luck finding me in a city of millions. And don’t try to ask Risha—she thinks I already flew home. She purposefully hadn’t told her friend about the change in plans, not wanting to put her in the middle of this mess. Risha was one of the few true friends she still had, and she couldn’t lose her as she’d lost Kalindra and Rhiannon and Violet.
Don’t be stupid, Dee, Bobby replied. You know I’m only looking out for you. Mum and Dad are worried sick—Mum found your extra meds, knows you’re about to run out. And, Dee, you know what happens when you don’t take your meds.
Diya wanted to scream. I hate you all. You’re my jailors, not my family. I. HATE. YOU!
Chapter 61
“I went to Fiji,” I confessed to Diya at five the next morning, the staff having allowed me to sneak in because Diya was wide-awake when I called the ICU to check on her status. I needed to buy her a phone so she could contact me when she wanted, would do so as soon as the shops opened today.
“You did?” No sedative today, her eyes going wide as she sat up in bed sipping at the hot coffee I’d grabbed for her from a drive-through. “Why?”
“You said Ani’s name when I found you.” I put one hand on her leg, above the blanket. “I was just looking for an answer, any answer, I guess.”
Her face fell. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about her.” Looking away, she bit down on her lower lip. “I don’t feel good when I think about Ani.”
“You don’t have to say anything.” I squeezed her leg. “I didn’t go to the beach, though—I thought we could go together, and you could show me around like you promised.”
She turned back to face me, the hollows in her cheeks too prominent, as were the shadows under her eyes. “Ani died.” A wet shine to her eyes. “We were playing and she fell and she died.”
It made sense to me that her family had reshaped things that way for the five-year-old she’d been, turning a murder into an accidental tragedy. So she wouldn’t ever give away what they believed she’d done, tell others of the stain of blood they’d put on her. “It wasn’t your fault,” I said, because I thought she needed to hear it. “You know that, right?”
A jagged nod. “But after Ani, they became so suffocating. Always watching, always calling if I was even a minute late home from school. I couldn’t just hang out with friends, could barely even make them.” Tears rolled down her face. “Bobby used to follow me on dates sometimes!”
I frowned. “He followed you?”
“He said he wanted to be close by in case anything happened and I got scared and needed an out, but it just made me feel like I couldn’t breathe. I used to get so mad at them for it.” She began to cry in earnest. “And now they’re all gone, Tavi. My brother, Mum and Dad, they’re gone.”
Gathering her into my arms after managing to put her coffee on the table before she spilled it, I just held her while she sobbed for her lost family…sobbed so long and hard that the nurses got worried and called Chen, who’d been about to head home after a night shift.
He gave her something to calm her, and I sat with her until she closed her eyes once more in sleep, her wounded body needing rest to heal.
“Tavish.” Chen appeared at the end of the bed. “Can we talk?”
“I thought you’d gone home after seeing Diya, Dr. Chen,” I said when I joined him in the hallway.
His bony face tired, he said, “I wanted to talk to you about this first—I’ve had a look at your wife’s records. She’s been treated for mental health issues since she was a teenager, including severe depression.”
Scowling, I set my feet apart as I folded my arms across my chest. “Sure, but you can’t blame her for her current state. This is not a normal situation.”
“No, that’s not what I meant—I want us to be proactive here, treat her mind as we’re treating her body. I’m going to arrange for a mental health practitioner to come speak to her.”