“I know you need time to grieve,” the cop says, “but I just wanted to let you know we have taken the other driver in for questioning, and we’re conducting a full investigation. He has openly confessed to not seeing their car and clipping the back of their vehicle, which ultimately caused the accident.”
“Can we discuss this another time?” I say through gritted teeth. “I know you’re only doing your job, but they are in no state to hear this.”
“Of course.” He hands me his card and gives one to Jonathon too. “I’ll be in touch, but if you need anything else, feel free to call me.” He retrieves a bloodstained large white envelope from inside his jacket, handing it to me. “These were found in the car. They are not evidence, but I didn’t want to leave them where they might fall into the wrong hands.” His dark brown eyes drill into mine. “I believe they are safest left in your care.”
I nod, too numb to say anything. The officer leaves the room, nodding respectfully at Mr. and Mrs. Mills as they speak in hushed tones with the doctor.
“What is it?” Ro asks, staring at the envelope in my hands, ever the nosy bastard.
I open the top and pull out a bunch of photos, skimming through them with an aching heart. They are all of me and Vivien from Ireland, and they bring back so many happy memories. I peek into the envelope, spotting tons more. There must be hundreds of photos.
I wish the officer hadn’t left yet so I could thank him for being a decent fucking human. This gives me faith there are at least a few good people left in the world. He would have made a fortune selling these, and it would’ve ruined Viv’s reputation and clued the world’s media in to our story. I shudder even thinking about it.
I slam my hand over the next photo before Ro can see, grinding my teeth to the molars as rage crawls up my throat. What the actual fuck? This photo was taken the night I took Viv up Bray Head and fucked her against the cross. Was someone spying on us? Automatically, my mind pivots to Reeve. Without proof, I just know he’s behind this, and my wrath returns with a vengeance.
Forcibly dialing my anger down, I return the photos to the envelope and wrap it inside my jacket on the chair beside Jamie. Whatever this means, it will have to wait. There are more pressing matters like getting in to see Viv.
Ro and I sit down as Jamie comforts Ash, and Lauren and Jonathon cling to one another. Eerie silence fills the room, only interrupted by anguished cries. I’m on the verge of losing it when a nurse walks into the room, explaining Vivien is awake and ready to see her parents.
“I’m coming too,” I say, standing.
“No, you’re not.” Lauren gives me a serious case of evil eye. “You are probably the last person my daughter wants to see.”
“Please.” I walk toward them, shielding nothing from my face. “Please let me go with you. I need to see her.”
“We will ask her if she wants to see you,” Jonathon offers, leading his wife to the door. “It will be Viv’s choice.”