When Kalinda opens her eyes Cary's peering around the door. She's surprised by how glad she is to see him, wings opening inside her chest. Although she texts updates to Will on a regular basis, she's starting to forget there is a world outside these walls.
Alicia's still asleep, her hand still in Kalinda's. Cary cocks an eyebrow at that. (There's still the barest trace of a bruise around his right eye; Kalinda never asked him, and he never talked about it, but now she wonders. I thought it was Cary.) He pulls the other chair gently from its spot against the wall and slides it up to Alicia's left side, by her foot so that he avoids her bandaged wounds and the IV line.
"Sorry I'm so early," Cary whispers, smiling at Kalinda. "But I'm grabbing almost all of her cases, so this is all the time I have."
"It's not visiting hours," says Kalinda.
"That's right, it isn't," Cary says. "I had to charm the girl at the front desk."
"And I'm sure you did it well."
"Oh, did I." The cocky smile doesn't look natural on him, not the way it used to. Kalinda almost laughs. "How's our girl doing? Will said she's better."
"Yeah." It would be impossible for Kalinda to summarize the last few days, Alicia's experience or her own. "She's in a lot of pain, though. Now that she's awake for it."
Cary grimaces. "They … took out an organ or something, right?"
"Yeah. Her spleen. Ruptured." Kalinda doesn't like to dwell on it.
"You don't really need one of those, right?"
"You can get by."
Both of them turn their heads sharply as Alicia's eyes flutter open. She's clearly woken up hurting, but she tries to hide it as soon as she notices Cary. "Hi," she says to him. "Thanks for coming."
"Thanks for your hospitality." Cary shrugs. "I was worried I wouldn't get to talk to you. Glad you're up. How are you feeling?"
"I've been better." Alicia raises an eyebrow.
"I know." Cary rubs her foot with casual affection. "You need anything? Another pillow?"
"That'd be great. Thank you."
Cary seems familiar with hospitals—he finds the pillow easily in the cabinet opposite Alicia's bed. (It also holds Alicia's laptop and some clothes that Zach and Grace brought from home, still useless for the moment.) He tucks it under Alicia's right arm, at her request, and brings the blanket up, much more gently towards her left side. "Wow," he says, looking at the dressings over Alicia's wounds. "They really got you, didn't they?"
"They did."
Cary studies Alicia for a second, like he's looking for something, then resumes the same conversational tone. "Can you eat yet?"
"Clear liquids, starting tomorrow."
"Congratulations! What are you going to drink first? White wine doesn't count."
Cary excels at caretaking, Kalinda thinks as she watches him. He strikes a masterful balance of tender, casual, and careful. He banters with the nurse who comes to take Alicia's vitals for the morning—Josie, it turns out, is her name—and does a spot-on and hilarious impression of David Lee extending his sympathies. Extra bedding, cool washcloths across the forehead, joking about injury and treatment—these things would never cross Kalinda's mind. For a second she's furious at Cary, but it's hard to hold onto that fury when Alicia looks so beautifully relaxed. Maybe "Alicia before" and "Alicia after" won't always be so firmly divided in Kalinda's memory.
"I'll swing by tomorrow," Cary says. "Can I bring you anything from work? Like … case files? Office supplies?"
Alicia laughs. "No, thanks—"
Peter bursts into the room. "Alicia, the police are here. Oh, hey, Cary. Kalinda." He says her name as fast as he can.
"I'll see you tomorrow, Alicia," says Cary. "Kalinda, call me if anything changes, okay? Peter, it's good to see you." He rises and exits, tailored and graceful.
Peter doesn't miss a beat. "I told Chief Rogers you were awake yesterday, Alicia, and they need your statement so we can find this guy. Do you think you're up for it?"
"Yes, I think so," Alicia says slowly. She's looking at Kalinda. Kalinda's not sure why.
"I know it's a lot, Alicia. But we want to get him. The longer he has without anyone on his tail, the less we can do." Peter is blustery in his fear, honestly a bit annoying. Kalinda hadn't realized she had never seen him scared before.
"I know that, Peter," Alicia says. "They're here already? The police?"
"They came with me."
"Where are the kids?"
"They're here too. They understand. They can wait."
Alicia's eyelids look heavy, her brow creased. She doesn't talk for a second or two. Then she says, "I just need a few minutes, Peter, all right? Can the police wait?"
"Of course—of course." He stares at her.
"Go entertain them," Alicia says. Her words still sound slow and slick with painkillers, though Kalinda wonders if she isn't putting it on a little. "I'll send Kalinda out when I'm ready."
Peter nods to the area above Kalinda's head, then turns abruptly.
Alicia scrutinizes Kalinda, who already feels exposed. She takes in Kalinda's rumpled skirt and jacket, the boots still on her aching feet, the hanks of hair that have worked their way out of her updo. Then she says slowly, "Is there anything I shouldn't say?"
"What?"
"To the police, Kalinda. Is there anything I shouldn't say?"
Kalinda throws her gaze sideways, counting the squares on the linoleum floor. Someone came in to mop it around three in the morning, a Latino guy who couldn't have been more than nineteen, his sleeves rolled up and his hair a cluster of glorious curls. "Say what happened, Alicia."
"Could that hurt you?"
"Probably not." Not any more than this, than the days and nights of seeing what she's done to Alicia. If she could bear to leave the trauma ward Kalinda thinks she might welcome the hurt Nick would bring.
"But maybe?"
"Tell them what happened."
"I don't want to. Not if it's dangerous."
Through the door's tall, narrow window Kalinda sees Tony Burton and his new partner, Karen Migdalia, shifting impatiently in the hall, looking at an equally uncomfortable Zach and Grace. She rises, but Alicia grips her wrist with a strength Kalinda thought had bled from her, left its stain on a cold cement ramp.
"He told me you were there."
"What?"
"When he called me. He said he had you with him."
Kalinda swallows. "He didn't."
"I know. But that's why I was there. That's why I went," says Alicia. Her eyes look a little over-drugged, a little crazy. "He said he'd kill you if I didn't come and—should I tell them that? Is it important?"
"I don't know, Alicia!" Kalinda says, suddenly panicked. She realizes how badly she needs to leave this hospital, the feeling crawling over her body like driver ants. No one but a patient has it worse. "If you don't know what to say, you should have asked a lawyer. You can still ask a lawyer. I'll call the office if you want. The cops will have to wait."
Alicia blinks a few times, slowly, as if even that takes more energy than she has. "Yeah, I think I do."
"I'll call Diane." Diane, fighting violence against women for her long and storied career, will do more for Alicia than Kalinda ever could. "And I know Tony. I'll get them to wait."
Alicia looks confused. "Thank you."
Kalinda can't say "you're welcome," not to Alicia. She slides her wrist from the other woman's grip—not so firm anymore, hardly holding on at all—and slips into the corridor, letting the door click shut behind her.