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killed Tommy," Wren said quietly. Her anger burned in dull embers in her mind as she imagined his face. Chief. Gone forever.
    "Look, Wren—"
    The door opened again, but this time it was Wren's mother. Wren shook her head. She didn't want to talk about Tommy's death with her mom in the room.
    "Oh, Wren, my little darling!" Wren's mom swept into the room like a tornado of activity, throwing the dinner bags onto the table at the same time she pulled Wren into a big hug. Her hair was as dark as Wren's, but Wren suspected that she'd been dyeing it for quite some time.
    "Oof, mom, careful. You're gonna squeeze me to death."
    "My little sugar pie! Look at you! You look too thin. Have you been eating at all?"
    Wren glanced at her dad and they rolled their eyes in tandem.
    "I've gained eight pounds since the last time I saw you, mom." Maybe more. Wren had always been short and muscled from the CSE's training, but now that she didn't have a reason to stay super fit, her natural curves were coming back to her. Her mom chattered on without hearing her.
    "I brought rice and curry from that nice Thai food place down the street. Your dad won't eat the hospital food, it makes him sick." Wren's mom laid out three paper plates and spooned the thick yellow curry over rice.
    "That's not true," he interjected. "It just tastes terrible. Bland. I can't taste anything with all the medicine they dump into me."
    "I'm sure your nurses will love that you brought curry in here," Wren said. "You'll have the whole east wing smelling like your dinner plate."
    "Can you stay to eat, dear? I got extra." Wren's mom placed a plate on the hospital bed for her dad, and offered her one.
    Wren checked her watch. "Sorry, mom. I should be going soon. Plane to catch. This was just a layover."
    "Not until you eat." Her mom stood, stubbornly holding the plate out to her.
    "Okay. Maybe a few bites." After the first forkful, though, Wren's resistance melted. The spicy curry warmed her from the inside out, and soon she was shoveling up the last of the rice on her plate.
    "How's Olivier?" Wren's mom said, patting her on the shoulder.
    "Good." Wren blotted the napkin on her lips. "We're going on a trip this weekend. A spa getaway."
    "How exciting! Do you think he'll propose?"
    "Mom!"
    Wren swallowed hard. For whatever reason, she felt uncomfortable talking about Olivier and their plans. Settling down, starting a family—she’d never thought about it much. Maybe as something that would happen in the distant future. And when she started thinking about settling down with Olivier, there was something in her that blocked her from thinking too much.
    "Marilyn," her dad said admonishingly. "Don't push the girl."
    "Mike, I'm not pushing. I'm curious!"
    "And I'm going to be late for my plane," Wren said. She stood up and shrugged her jacket back on over her shoulders. "Love you, mom."
    Her mom hugged her again, even harder than the first time.
    "Say hi to my future son-in-law," she said.
    "I will." Wren leaned over and hugged her dad, careful not to pinch any of the IV tubing as she squeezed. "Love you, dad."
    "You be careful out there," her dad said to her as they embraced. "Don't let your head get in the way of your instinct. Trust yourself. Follow your heart."
    "Got it." Wren nodded. Her mom looked confused, thank goodness. She probably thought they were talking about Olivier. "You get better, okay?"
    "They can't keep me here much longer," her dad said, beaming. "The nurses all hate your mother."
    "They do not!" Wren's mom said.
    "Bye, guys!" Wren waved again at the door and left, pulling her suitcase behind her. Walking down the hall, she could hear them bickering all the way until she turned the corner of the hospital wing.

Chapter Seven
    In the airplane on the way to California, Wren had taken off her shoes and was about to slip on her headset to watch the inflight movie when the cell phone buzzed with a message.
    Here's the video. This is all we have to go on right now.