Amira ducked away from the dreary, drizzling sky into the hospital. She always felt on guard in places like this, spartan, sterile, full of people at their worst. The past three days had been onerous, and Amira had the headache to prove it — sleeping had never been easy, but lately, it was impossible.

She had been keeping tabs on Patty’s condition, but there had been little to report. Knowing that she was alive, at least that was something… but to think of the poor woman alone in a bleak hospital room… well, there was the mounting fear that maybe she was at fault for all of it. The Captain had been keeping his chats brief, and that never boded well.

“What the hell are you doing here?” The voice came from straight ahead, from Officer Shelby MacNamara — wearing a stern look to match her tone. She crossed her arms.

“That’s not quite the welcome I was expecting,” Amira said with a chuckle.

Shelby put a hand on Amira’s arm and excused herself from the receptionist, walking off to a corner of the lobby — “That’s pretty bold of you,” she said through gritted teeth, “to come here as if nothing’s wrong.”

Amira looked back and forth, between Shelby and her arm, puzzled. “Of course something’s wrong, I’m here to check in on Patty.”

That earned an incredulous laugh. “Patty, right. Let’s not make it out like you two are pals. She wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for your negligence, Detective.”

A silence fell. “I’m sorry?”

“I shouldn’t have to tell you about the importance of securing witness safety. Whatever it is you did clearly made her lose your trust, and look where that brought her.”

“…Christ, w—what? I’m not responsible for the witness’s actions, Shelby. Surely you’re not suggesting that I’ve somehow caused her injuries…”

“From what I heard, Detective Dryden stepped up to the plate to stop the bleeding. I don’t think she had the bright idea to send a homeless man running after the assailant.”

Amira’s mouth hung open. This inexperienced cop was really trying to railroad her? “…Is this something personal, officer, that you’d like to discuss with me later? I’ll freely admit that it was a less than perfect string of events, but most of it was beyond my control—“

“There’s a woman here, lying alone in a hospital bed, comatose. If I were you, that would weigh pretty heavy on my conscience. Excuse me, Detective.”

She gave Amira one last piercing glare and returned to the reception desk. Shoulders hunched, hands in fists, jaw clenched, Amira let out a breath and decided it best not to retaliate — but there was that persistent voice in her head, as she walked to the coma ward, telling her to put the rookie cop in her place. She shook away any creeping thoughts that maybe, just maybe this was her fault. No. She’s stubborn. And Patty will be fine.

She came to Room 313 and nodded at the guard outside. Entering, she found a man in plainclothes sitting in the corner.

“Oh. Hello.” Amira had startled him.

“Hi. Are you visiting?” He was already standing, restless and eager.

“Yes, I’m—“

“Detective Crowe, I know. I’m Nick, Nick Riley. Officer MacNamara’s partner.”

“Ah, right.” She recognized him, somehow. From another time, another place. But her mind wasn’t so sharp lately. He made no move to shake hands.

“… Speaking of, I’d better go check on her. So.”

Nick gave a tight smile and shuffled past. When the door shut, Amira felt once again like she had made an enemy of a stranger. God knows what she’s told him about me. But now, with him gone, Amira’s eyes fell on Patty, who was unrecognizable under the ventilator mask and mess of tubing.

Her stomach dropped and she felt an odd pull toward the poor woman. It felt suddenly wrong to be in the room with her, wrong to reach out or sit by her side. But they were similar, in ways. Alone. Uncertain. Watching Patty’s shallow breath, her pockmarked arms, the slow beeps of the heart monitor… it dawned on her that Patty might not resurface. Amira lunged for the trash can by the door and vomited.

She knew that this time, she couldn’t afford to fail. She had to find the shooter. But where to begin?

“Hey Dryden, you got a call.”

Nicky pushed a button on the treadmill, slowing her running. She picked up a towel, wiping her face as she grabbed her water bottle.

“Dreke, this better be good, I was just hitting The Zone.”

“Well, Miss “Gotta win the Greypike Triathalon”, go ahead and tell that to the Captain, cuz he wants you front and present in his office in 5, ready to roll.”

Nicky actually had been trying to work out all of the complications from the last few days, although the exercise routine had not even been able to push the unease and images of the attack on the homeless woman from her mind. Grumbling Nicky started to head for the locker room.

“No time for a shower twinkle toes, Captain was serious about heading out.”

“Dryden, I want you to look this over and then,” The Captain paused as Nicky had come into the office and took the paper the Captain offered. “Is everything alright?”

Nicky paused, reading the expression on her superior’s face. She sighed. “I was in the middle of a workout and was told to get here stat.”

“Ah, well, yes, so,” Walker backed off, moving to sit behind his desk as he cleared his throat. “It’s a Tipline call, I wanted you to take a look. This has the potential for a SWAT situation.”

“I don’t understand,” she replied as she scanned the document. “This sounds like some dopehead trying to rat out someone he has a grudge against. Shouldn’t this be followed up by uniforms or even someone over in the firearms unit? I…” she trailed off, her focus shifting entirely to the transcript. She reread a passage.

Captain Walker pursued his lips, containing a smile as he knew the section Dryden was reading over. It was probably the same one that had caught his attention and why he had called Nicky in. “Do you want me to get a uniform to go with you?”

“Have a car meet me at the Auto shop,” she walked out of his office, pulling out her phone.

“Press your heels into the mat…”

Amira craned her neck to look at the YouTube yoga tutorial lady. Everything ached… was everything supposed to ache? Her phone buzzed. She’d forgotten to set it to Do Not Disturb, but what did it matter. Her thoughts were disturbing her anyway. She came up from her downward dog and reached for the phone, expecting a message about Patty.

SCOTT LANGFORD
Heard ur name on the news. What the hell? Can u call me, im worried.

She turned it off, then thought about her clingy ex worrying and changed her mind, firing a series of texts back.

I’m fine, that was a while ago.
It’s all part of the job.
Stop texting me.
Pls.

Rolling up her mat and putting on some water for tea, her phone buzzed again. To her surprise, the message was from Dryden.

Following a weird tip. Just thought I’d let you know… it might be linked. -ND.

The last thing Amira had expected was for Dryden to start getting friendlier. Maybe the ambush had brought them closer together… Amira had considered checking in on Nicky a couple times since.

Thanks, keep me posted. At home today if you need “intel”.

After a quick shower, she settled in at her desk with a cup of “Calming Chamomile” and put on the glasses she only wore at home. Laptop and notebook close at hand, she was prepared to be needed.