St. Joseph's Convalescent Hospital
San Antonio, Texas
"Lilly came out of the coma." Dr. Staten's voice was
clinical. Void of emotion or any speculation as to the
impact of the bombshell that he'd just delivered.
Detective Jason Lawrence's reaction, however, wasn't quite
so serene or detached.
There was emotion. Plenty of it. And speculation? That,
too. A really bad kind of speculation that knotted his
stomach and tightened every muscle in his body.
Oh, man.
It felt as if someone had sucker punched him. "Lilly's
awake?" Jason managed to ask even though he already knew
the answer. Still, he wanted a confirmation, and while he
waited for it, he prayed.
Except he didn't know what the hell to pray for.
Dr. Staten nodded. "She woke up about two hours ago.
That's why I called and asked you to come."
And at no time during the call had the doctor indicated
that Lilly was no longer comatose. Of course, Dr. Staten
probably thought it was news best delivered in person.
Jason was debating that. Though there was nothing that
could have helped pave the way for this, he would have
liked a few minutes in private to prepare himself.
"How did this happen?" Because he didn't want to risk
something as dignity-reducing as losing his balance, Jason
dropped down into the burgundy leather chair across from
Dr. Staten's desk.
"She simply woke up." The doctor lifted a shoulder and
flexed his dark, gray-threaded eyebrows. "We don't know
why. It's not a common occurrence, but it does happen —
even after nineteen months."
Yes. These things probably did happen. But nineteen months
had been more than enough time for Jason to believe it
wouldn't happen.
Ever.
And he'd built his entire life around that ever.
Dr. Staten sat, as well, easing down into his chair, and
from over the thin silver rims of his glasses, he examined
Jason with sympathetic brown eyes. "I know this has to
come as a surprise..."
Jason almost laughed. Not from humor. Definitely not from
that. But from the irony. Lilly was awake — after nineteen
months, three days and a couple of hours. After everyone,
including the medical community, and he had given up hope.
She was awake.
It was nothing short of a miracle.
And the beginning of what would no doubt be his own
personal nightmare.
Jason pulled in his breath, released it slowly. "Has Lilly
said anything?"
"A little. She's still somewhat disorientated and doesn't
remember much about the car accident. That's to be
expected. It'll take a while for her body to start
functioning normally, but now that she's awake, I believe
she'll make a full recovery."
Jason silently cursed his reaction. Cursed himself. And
then cursed fate for dealing him a hand that he didn't
want to play. He was happy for Lilly. Truly happy. No one
deserved to be in a vegetative state, and now she would
get a second chance at life. But Jason couldn't help it:
her second chance changed everything.
"Have you told her?" Jason asked.
Dr. Staten paused a moment. There was no need for Jason to
clarify his question; the doctor certainly knew what was
foremost on his mind. "No. I figured it'd sound better
coming from you."
Jason seriously doubted that. It wouldn't sound better
coming from anyone. But it was true — he needed to be the
one to tell Lilly.
So he could soften the blow.
So he could prepare her for the shock of her life. And
then what?
Would he ultimately lose everything that he'd come to love
in the past year? Jason suddenly felt as if he were
perched on top of a house of cards with an F-5 tornado
bearing right down on him.
The doctor picked up a pen, groaned softly and tossed it
onto his desk. The cool facade was broken, and for the
first time since Jason had walked into his office, he saw
the frayed nerves.
Not exactly a comforting reaction. "Lilly's expecting
you," the doctor instructed. His suddenly strained voice
said it all. "I let her know that you were coming."
And that was Jason's cue to get to his feet. He mustered
what courage he could and tried to push aside his fears.
No easy feat. His fears were mammoth, and the next few
minutes would change his life forever.
"If you need more time, I can postpone the visit," Dr.
Staten offered.
Man, was that tempting. But it wouldn't solve anything.
This conversation with Lilly had to happen. Plus, delaying
the inevitable would only prolong his agony.
Jason followed the doctor out of the office and toward the
patient ward of the convalescent facility. With each step,
his heart pounded and his breath thinned. Sheez. Such a
wuss reaction. But he couldn't help it. Because he was a
cop, his life had been on the line a couple of times, but
he'd never before had this much at stake.
When they reached the room, the doctor stepped aside to
allow Jason to enter ahead of him. Jason took a deep
breath and pushed open the door to Lilly's room. A room
he'd seen at least a dozen times. From the vantage point
of the doorway anyway. He'd kept his distance, literally
and figuratively. But this was different. She wasn't just
lying there, eyes closed and attached to machines to
monitor her vitals. One machine was still in place, as was
an IV, but she was sitting up with the help of pillows
stuffed behind her back.
Her gaze slid in his direction and she spotted him.
Instant recognition. Jason knew that from the brief
widening of her blue-green eyes followed by the notso-
brief tightening of her mouth.
"Jason," she said.
Not a friendly greeting. It dripped with questions. Why
are you here? Of all the people in the world, why would
you be my first real visitor?
Unfortunately, she would soon find out.
Because he suddenly felt awkward and fidgety, Jason
stuffed his hands into the pockets of his khakis and
ambled closer. "Welcome back, Lilly."
The right corner of her mouth lifted. "You actually seem
sincere." Since her first attempt sounded as if she were
speaking through gravel, she cleared her throat and
repeated it.
"I am sincere."
And Jason was almost certain he believed that. Lilly was
pale, a skim-milk kind of pale, but other than that and
the two-and-a-half-inch whitish scar angled on the left
side of her forehead, she didn't look as if she'd been
through a horrifying ordeal.
However, she did look different.
Her normally short auburn hair now lay on the tops of her
shoulders. Loose. Not confined in one of the not-a-strand-
out-of-place styles that she usually preferred. No makeup,
either.
She had freckles and chapped lips.
Definitely not the pristine, polished corporate image that
Jason had come to associate with that face. Too bad.
Because that executive veneer had always been a reminder
that she wasn't his type. That she was hands-off.
For reasons he didn't want to explore, she didn't seem so
hands-off right now. Lilly seemed very small and
vulnerable, despite her defensive expression and her smart-
ass reply to his greeting.
"How are you?" he asked, mainly because he couldn't think
of what else to say.
She hesitated as if considering what ulterior motive he
might have for his question, and she moistened her
lips. "Coming back from the dead isn't easy."
Jason nodded. "I imagine not."
Lilly made a you-don't-know-the-half-of-it sound. "My
whole body's stiff, and it doesn't respond the way it
should. I'll spare you most of the specifics, but I've got
a wicked headache. Cotton mouth. And I understand it'll be
days...or even longer before I can walk. I'm a little
scared about that."
Lilly stopped, wrinkled up her forehead. And closed down.
She was no doubt embarrassed that she'd revealed her fear
of not being able to walk. It was a totally human, normal
response, but Jason figured she would view it as a
weakness.
"Of course, there's a bright side to this," she continued.
It was her CEO presentation voice. Light, confident,
airy. "I figure I've lost a lot of weight. I doubt I've
been this thin since high school." Lilly fanned her
trembling fingers through the air to indicate an imaginary
marquee. "Coma — the ultimate diet."
"You'll be back to normal in no time," Jason promised her.
Though he didn't know why. That certainly wasn't a promise
he could deliver.
She stared at him a moment. "Oh, I get it now." Lilly's
mouth relaxed and she made a clumsy swipe to push her
rumpled hair off her forehead. "This is an official visit
from Detective Jason Lawrence, San Antonio PD. You want to
question me about the car accident that put me here in
this hospital bed."
He wished that was the reason he'd come. "I work Special
Investigations now," Jason informed her. "Your accident
doesn't come under the jurisdiction of my department."
Something, some raw emotion, rifled through her eyes. "So,
you're here to talk about Greg." Lilly huffed and coupled
it with a disapproving groan. "I figured you'd give me at
least a day or two to catch up on current events, physical
therapy, visits from friends, trips to Krispy Kreme, et
cetera, before you started badgering me again about the
night Greg died."
Greg. His brother. His dead brother. And the subject of
the majority of Lilly's and his last conversations, and
bitter arguments.
Always arguments.
It didn't matter that she was trying to diffuse this
tension with her Krispy Kreme style of humor. The emotion
and the pain were still there, crouching just below the
surface of her words.
Jason moved closer and stopped a few inches from the foot
of her bed. "I'm not here about Greg, either." Besides, no
amount of questioning and arguments would bring his
brother back. He knew that. Now. But Lilly was right —
nineteen months ago, it'd been a topic he'd broached often
with her.
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