house, on a sunny Sunday afternoon, while a barely functional human wheezed in a bedroom down the hall. It wasn’t fair. She tried the deep breathing technique Dr. Lemmon had taught her in a recent therapy session, one the woman claimed was especially effective at what she called “releasing the steam.” It wasn’t working.
So she decided to call Kat. Katherine “Kat” Gentry was Jessie’s best friend. Of late, she’d also proven to be a good sounding board. Hannah had only recently started at a new high school and, considering it was her senior year and she didn’t know anyone, she didn’t have much in the way of confidantes.
But Kat was different. In addition to being a badass former Army Ranger with the scars to prove it, the woman had also run security at a penal facility holding mentally unstable killers. When that went awry, she’d become a private investigator. In other words, she wasn’t one to mess with.
More importantly, she could keep a secret. It was only a few weeks ago that Kat had taken her on a stakeout of a drug dealer, during which Hannah had confronted the guy for no reason other than to feel the rush of danger—to feel anything really.
Later that night, when Kat had threatened to tell Jessie what happened, Hannah confessed the truth: that she only seemed capable of feeling emotions when she put herself in extreme situations, and that she worried Jessie would abandon her if she found out just how damaged she was.
It had been a relief to tell Kat the truth, something she hadn’t been able to tell Jessie or even Dr. Lemmon. Kat had promised not to reveal what she’d been told, as long as Hannah promised not to put herself at risk like that again.
And in the intervening weeks, they’d both followed through. Hannah had restrained her urge to push beyond safe boundaries. And Kat had listened patiently as she tried to work out the conflicts in her head. She knew that at some point, Kat would insist that she come clean with the people responsible for her, but she hadn’t done so yet and Hannah was grateful.
“What’s up, Hanna Barbera?” Kat asked upon picking up, using a nickname that Hannah didn’t understand.
“Nothing much,” Hannah replied. “What’s up with you?”
“Just driving back from a weekend at my honey’s.”
Kat was long-distance dating a sheriff’s deputy from Lake Arrowhead, a small town in the mountains about eighty miles northeast of L.A. She sounded happy. Hannah was reluctant to ruin her mood with her own problems.
“Ryan arrives today, right?” Kat said.
“He’s actually already here, has been for a few hours now.”
“How that going?”
“Okay. Jessie had to leave for a case and the nurse left a little while ago too. So it’s just the two of us.”
“Oh,” Kat said, and Hannah could almost hear the woman processing the situation. “That must be fun for you.”
“I’ve had better afternoons,” she admitted.
“Well, I know Jessie really appreciates what you’re doing. She told me how excited she was to have Ryan coming to stay at the house. So if she’s not there, this case must be serious.”
“They’re all serious, Kat,” Hannah said bitterly.
“It’s just one day, right?” Kat said, skipping over her tone. “Tomorrow you’ll be back in school and there will be a nurse available to help.”
“Yeah, during the day,” Hannah countered irritably. “What happens at night when she’s working on a lead and I’m the only one here?”
She could sense Kat struggling for an acceptable answer. She let her squirm.
“Listen,” Kat finally said. “Your sister has got some resources available. If she has to invest in a night nurse too, she will. Frankly, I think that’s a good idea regardless, especially for the first few weeks. Maybe I can broach the idea with her. In the meantime, I should be back in the city in about an hour and a half. Do you want me to stop by?”
Hannah did but knew it was asking too much.
“That’s okay,” she said. “Ryan’s sleeping and I’m sure Jessie will be back by then. I’ll get by.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Hey, Hanna Barbera, do me a favor,” Kat said, upbeat.
“What?”
“Walk into the bathroom and look in the mirror.”
“What for?”
“Just do it,” she instructed.
Hannah complied, turning on the light and staring at herself.
“What do you see?” Kat asked.
“Myself.”
“Come on, you can do better than that.”
“I see a girl,” Hannah said, “with sandy blonde hair that probably needs to be cut, green eyes that have too much red in them, someone