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“It—I wasn’t the right fit for him.”
She bites her lip and takes a half step in. “We’re friends, aren’t we, Meredith? I mean, I know you’re my boss and everything. But I like to think of you as a friend, too.”
Clearly she’s asking for a reason, so I hesitate before answering. “Umm, of course.”
“Okay.” She laughs. “I can see my even asking that question made you nervous. So I’m not going to pry too much. All I’m going to say is this: I know how by-the-book you are. But I also noticed the way Gabriel Wright looked at you the last few times he was here. And the way you looked at him. So if you quit it so you can hit it, I’m all for it. You go, girl. You deserve to be happy, boss.” She winks, and I pretend heat isn’t crawling up my face. “Your next patient will be here any minute. I’ll go grab you your midmorning coffee.”
I think my jaw is still hanging open when she closes the door.
The way Gabriel looks at me?
The way I look at Gabriel?
I shut my eyes and take a few deep breaths. If only Sarah knew exactly how by-the-book I am.
Luckily, I don’t have time to dwell on her observation. I have patients starting soon and need to clear my mind, distract myself from all things Gabriel Wright. So I reach into my drawer for the letter opener and use it to slice open the packing tape in the middle of the box Sarah’s left behind. What I find inside is definitely not what I expected. There are no notebooks. Instead, there is… a Hello Kitty figurine. At first I assume it’s a mistake, a simple shipping error once again. But then my brain connects a bunch of dots I wasn’t even aware were there. In psychiatry terms, I suffer a somatic flashback.
The photo in the newspaper the day after the accident.
The pool of red blood on the white concrete sidewalk.
Connor’s mangled car off to the side.
The tarp covering a small body.
So, so small.
The Hello Kitty stuffed animal, no more than a foot from the dead little girl.
I clutch my throat. I can’t breathe. I really can’t breathe.
My hands are shaking, yet I somehow reach into the package and pull out the figurine.
The small covered body.
So, so small.
Abruptly, I drop the toy back into the box and pull over the flap in search of a label.
My name is there. And it’s my address. But the wrong suite number.
Just like last time.
Sarah knocks and opens the door. “Your appointment is—” Her brows furrow. “Are you okay? You look pale.”
“This isn’t my package.”
“What do you mean?”
“I ordered notebooks. I didn’t order this.”
She walks to my desk and peeks inside the box. “Oh, I love Hello Kitty. It’s made such a resurgence lately.”
“It has?”
She nods. “My niece has a big collection. It’s kind of cool how long they’ve been around. I had them as a kid, too. Didn’t you?”
I shake my head.
