Her Mother’s Grave

Chapter Seventy-Eight

Josie dozed in a vinyl chair beside the bed they’d given Trinity in Denton’s emergency room. Trinity was badly dehydrated, with wounds on her wrists and ankles where Lila had bound her. Her face was swollen and covered in various shades of blue and black and green. Her nose was broken, just as Josie had thought, and a CT scan of her head had revealed a small hematoma, but she wouldn’t need surgery. A couple of her ribs were broken, and two of her fingers, but she would survive.

A hand touched her shoulder, and Josie bolted upright, an involuntary cry escaping her lips. “It’s okay, Boss,” Gretchen said softly. “I told them I’d come get you. You’ve got to go back for pre-ops now. Noah will be there with you.”

Josie’s arm was badly broken. She’d undergone a full exam and various x-rays on her arrival in the ER—she would need surgery. The nurses wanted her to wait in her own curtained-off area, but she’d refused, instead keeping vigil by Trinity’s bedside. Josie glanced over at her sister and back at Gretchen. “When will her parents be here?”

“Soon,” Gretchen said.

Josie stood up and let Gretchen hook an arm through hers, guiding her out into the hallway and off to another set of cold, bright, sterile rooms. Josie was numb and silent as she changed into a hospital gown and let the nursing staff take over. Hands probed her, taking her blood pressure and temperature, sliding in an IV, sending medication into her veins that made her feel relaxed and drowsy. She was grateful for the slow tranquility that overtook her. When Noah appeared by her bedside, she smiled broadly and reached for him with her good hand.

He took it and grinned back at her. “Well,” he said, “I see whatever they’re giving you is better than Wild Turkey.”

She laughed. Or at least she thought she did.

Then they were wheeling her down a long hallway. They passed Trinity’s room, and Josie saw Shannon Payne clutching her daughter and weeping into her matted hair. Even in her semi-stupor, Josie was struck by the resemblance between herself and Shannon Payne. How had Lila gotten away with it all those years, passing Josie off as hers? It didn’t matter now. The worst was over. Lila was going to prison. Josie closed her eyes, her mind too tired to think.

When she opened them again, she was in a cavernous room filled with people rushing around. The air was freezing. A nurse with a skullcap pressed a vial of medicine into her IV. “I’m gonna ask you to count backward from ten in a minute, hon,” she said. “Then you’re gonna have the best sleep of your life.”

Josie smiled at the nurse. That was exactly what she needed. She opened her mouth to say “ten,” but sleep arrived first.