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"She's so upset, Sali. How can I just do that? After everything she's been through?"

"Because right now, the only thing she needs to fight is herself." Sali pointed back toward the door. "You go back in there, and you teach her that you'll always bail her out and she'll never have to be anxious or uncomfortable or alone ever again. But the truth is, she will be. We all are. Let her deal with her shit."

"I feel so bad." I stumbled when she shoved me toward the car.

"Think of how happy she'll be to see you when you come home tonight." She pulled open the car door and gestured for me to get in. "Deal with your shit, too."

I drew in a slow breath and folded myself against the steering wheel for a moment. "Will you text me updates?"

"I will. She'll be fine."

"If she asks for Anita—"

"We'll get Anita." Sali closed me in, and I rolled down the window after turning over the engine. "Like a Band-Aid, Beast. Pull it off."

I nodded and drew in a slow breath. "You have the key to my place if you need to go there?"

"We have everything we need. Go kill some serial bastards." She clapped her hands as if sending me off into the playoffs. "Kill 'em good."

I couldn't help chuckling at that.

Driving off and leaving Nora behind now felt harder than the time I left her in the parking garage after we ended our friends-with-benefits relationship. My broken heart thundered in my chest and I forced myself to focus on the sounds of the tires rolling on the pavement. Thoughts raced in and out, and I fought the urge to call Sali before I even pulled onto the highway.

In the past two months, Nora and I hardly spent more than a few minutes apart. To admit that only she suffered from separation anxiety would be a lie. The sudden aloneness thrust me back to my last memory before everything changed; sitting with Anita in that silent, white-walled room waiting to hear about Nora's recovery.

My phone rang, startling me from my thoughts, and Anita's name filled the dashboard monitor. I pressed the answer button on the steering wheel.

"Donovan," I answered robotically.

"Quite aware. How'd it go?" she asked, her voice soft.

"Not well. I had to leave her there while she cried hysterically, Anita. What am I supposed to do?" I lost my shit on her in a way I hadn't expected. "How can I just go off to work and not worry that she'll end up sick or scared?"

"She'll be okay, Caroline. The only thing she's having to face right now is her own anxiety. No monster. No perpetrator. No villain. Just her own anxiety." Anita's calm, soothing response washed over me like some kind of warm syrup.

"I guess you're right."

"I am right. I'm often right," she said. I could almost hear her smile through the phone.

"Wow. Large head you have."

"Indeed. Now, how are you?"

"Stressed the fuck out. How are you?"

"Concerned of the mild sort, but otherwise well."

"You're fucking weird sometimes, Anita." I smirked when I said it.

"Affirmative. I'm going to head down and see Nora around lunch time, but don't tell her. She needs to sit with her unease for a little bit."

"Did you brief Sali on this?"

"I haven't. Why do you ask?"

"Because she said similar things…"

"Hmm," was all she said. "Well, that's validating at least."