"Right," I said. "Sorry."
I slid off the bed and took my folded jeans from the dresser top.
"Everything okay?" Jack asked as I put the jeans into my bag.
"Fine."
I grabbed my toiletry bag from the washroom. I came out, stuffed it into my duffel, and headed for the door, and nearly crashed into Jack, who hadn't moved. He reached to take my bag.
"Got it," I said.
He took it anyway, prying it from my fingers. Then he nudged me back into the room.
"Sit," he said.
I tried to protest, but he was right in front of me, moving forward, forcing me to step back until I hit the edge of the bed.
"Sit."
I sat. He set the bags aside and pulled a chair in front of me. When I started to rise, he moved his chair so close his legs were against mine.
"Talk," he said.
"I don't want to--"
"Too bad. Talk."
I glowered at him.
"Don't give me that. Really don't want to talk? Fine. But you do. Being polite. Fuck polite. That was your cousin. Don't know what he said. Wasn't eavesdropping. But you're upset. We're not on a schedule. No rush. So talk."
"Yes, it was Neil. He has the case file for Amy's murder. He asked if I wanted it. I said no. I'm not ready."
"Okay. But . . ."
"I feel guilty now."
"Because he got it for you?"
"Maybe guilty isn't the right word. I feel as if I should read it, like I read that journal. Suck it up and get it over with. But I'm not ready, and I feel . . . cowardly, I guess. Like I'm sticking my head in the sand. I'm just so . . ."
"What?" he said when I didn't continue.
"Nothing. We should go. I--"
"Nadia . . ."
"I feel confused," I blurted. "If I seem to be coping, I feel like I'm in denial. If I'm distracting myself with work, I feel like I'm hiding from the truth. If I don't want to read that report, I feel like I'm being a coward. What if I remember things I did wrong? Something I said that made Aldrich--"
"No," Jack's voice was harsh. "No, Nadia. You didn't say--"
"Or maybe I didn't fight hard enough. Maybe if I kicked or bit or--"
"No." Jack gripped my arms, fingers digging in. "You did nothing to make it happen. Nothing you could have done would have stopped it from happening."
I took a deep breath. "And I know that. But it doesn't stop the questions. So many goddamned questions, and I'm handling it all wrong."
"There's no right way to handle this," Jack said. "Just your way. If you aren't handling it? Acting out of character? Having nightmares? Losing sleep? I'll notice. I'll call you on it. You know that."