“I’m scared about you dying, Mommy.” She wasn’t crying yet, but her little eyes were glistening with tears. “Daddy left and soon you won’t be here. And it scares me. I want you to keep catching the bad people and keeping good people safe but I want you here, too. I...it makes me feel selfish.”
She hugged her close, mainly so Paige wouldn’t see her cry. “You’re not being selfish. It’s a very confusing time, I know,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “I don’t know what work will look like after this important case. How do you want ti to look?”
“I know you like your job, and it’s a cool job,” she said, wiping a tear away. “I want you to keep people safe. And I think you should. I just..I miss you more now that I know…I know about you being sick. I miss daddy, too.”
“And we’re going to keep letting you and Daddy see each other. He knows it’s just going to be you and him when I’m gone…and even though he’s not here right now, he loves you very much. And I’m going to try some things…some things at the doctor. It’s a very small chance, but I could maybe be around longer than we thought.”
“Maybe forever?” Paige asked hopefully.
Rachel hugged Paige tighter and said, “Not forever. But some time.”
Paige had nothing left to say. She fell quiet and fell asleep roughly five minutes later, still in Rachel’s arms. Rachel remained there for several more minutes, just enjoying the feel of her daughter in her arms. It was far too easy to remember her as a baby, fitting right in the crook of her arm and looking up at her with all the love and hope in the world, having no idea just how unfair the world could be at times.
When Rachel finally left the bedroom, she was in tears. She took some time to collect herself in the upstairs bathroom before returning downstairs. She found Grandma Tate sitting on the couch, playing with a jigsaw puzzle app on her iPad. The moment Rachel sat down next to her, she put the iPad down and looked over at her.
“How are you, Rachel?”
For a very brief moment, Rachel almost decided to tell her about her blackout and ensuing trip to the hospital. And though she didn’t like the idea of being dishonest in this situation, she also didn’t see the point in making the coming conversation more dramatic than it needed to be.
“I’m okay. Clear-headed and pain free for the last few days. I daresay I feel almost normal.”
Grandma Tate looked down to her hands for a second, deep in thought. A frown touched the corners of her mouth and she started rubbing her hands together.
“No need to be nervous,” Rachel said. “Just say what you feel you need to say.”
“I’m just curious about this case you’re on. Because I know that you would never flippantly go back on something you told Paige. Despite how I may have come across on the phone today, I know deep down that you would never do anything to hurt her. So it makes me assume that whatever this case is, it has its hooks in you in a way that I could never possibly understand.”
Rachel was glad to take the conversation anywhere other than her hospital visit. More than that, she also knew that she needed to vocalize the case. Working it out verbally with Jack was one thing, but actually processing it with someone who didn’t know the ins and outs of how the FBI worked might do her some good.
“Someone is killing people who have recently been diagnosed with terminal illnesses. It’s…well, it’s hitting me harder than I expected.”
“Oh my goodness,” Grandma Tate said, her hand going to her heart. “That’s awful. And yes, I can see how that would upset you. I don’t even know how you can manage to work on it. Doesn’t it seem personal?”
“I know better than to see it like that,” Rachel explained. “But yes, it sort of does feel personal. And I think that’s why it’s wrapped me up as much as it did.”
“So did you get some sort of break? Is that how you were able to come home?”
“Well, I’m not supposed to officially be on the case because of my two-week leave of absence—a leave that I requested and wasn’t handed down to me from above for disciplinary actions. So I’ve really just been helping Jack. We have a suspect right now. Jack is interrogating him. I’m hoping it’ll pay off, but…”
“You don’t think it’s the right person?” Grandma Tate asked.
“I’m just not sure. It doesn’t quite feel right.”
“That little girl upstairs needs you,” Grandma Tate said, switching the subject with an eerie sort of ease that Rachel was convinced only the elderly possess. “But she loves you so much that she’s not going to question any decision you make. You understand that, right?”
“I do. And I’m trying, Grandma. I just…I think work has been so important to me for so long that it’s harder than I thought to walk away from it. Especially in the midst of cases like this one. But I have decided that I’m going to go back to see Dr. Emerson—the doctor Jack recommended that thinks he can use a white blood cell–oriented approach. It’s only a ten percent chance but I have to try. Not for me or for my job, but for Paige.”
Grandma Tate smiled and reached over to take Rachel’s hand. “That’s wonderful, Rachel. Any hope is better than none. And if you need a miracle story, look no farther than the old woman sitting in front of you.”
“Well, I already told Paige I’ll be trying, so there’s no backing out now. I think it’s best to—”
She was interrupted by the ringing of her phone. When she saw Jack’s name on the display, she gave Grandma Tate with an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. It’s Jack. He was going to call after they knew more from the interrogation.”
“Then answer it,” she said, getting to her feet. “I’ll go make some tea.”
Rachel answered the call as Grandma Tate got up and headed into the kitchen. “Jack, how’s it going?”
“It’s going a bit odd, to tell you the truth,” Jack said. He sounded both tired and wired, a confusing indicator of how the interrogation might have gone.