On Thursday morning, surprisingly, Avery awoke, alert and physically capable. She could easily move her arms without the sluggish weight, sit up on her own, and think clearly. A short conversation with the morning nurse confirmed her throat muscles were stronger.
Events from the house were difficult to recall. She could see the dogs, all the cats, and the strange basement walls made of wood and picture frames. There was even a frightening image of Edwin Pesh like a spider with two glowing eyes, hopping from one side of a room to the other. How she'd gotten out alive? She only remembered a whisper and the face of Ramirez.
The door opened, and Avery looked up in shock. Her heart soared at the sight: Rose came running into the room.
"Mom!" she cried and hugged her tight. "I was so worried about you."
Avery closed her eyes and gripped her daughter just as strongly. Tears fell down her face, as the tight hug warmed her heart.
Avery remembered pieces of their dismal lunch, the message she'd left her before she stupidly entered the house of a killer alone.
She's back, she thought. My Rose came back to me.
Rose eventually let her go.
"I've been calling everyone," she said. "I had no idea where you were. No one would give me any answers. Finally, your captain called me back and told me you were here and awake. I came as soon as I could."
Avery smiled, hardly able to speak through her tears.
"Mom, I was sick about the way we left things. I'm so sorry. This whole week, all I could think about was: if Mom dies, you'll have to live with the way you acted for the rest of your life. I'm so sorry. It's just…"
Tears ran down Avery's cheek.
"It's my fault," she said. "Don't you take the blame, Rose. I'm the one to blame. I'm your mother, and I promise I'll make this right."
They cried and held hands and in that grip, Avery felt all the heaviness that had been draped around her neck all these years slowly lifting away. This, she realized, was what was restoring her. More than catching any killer could.
They talked and talked, as they had in old times, and didn't release each other's hands for hours. Finally, Avery felt, it was time to live again.
* * *
Ramirez dropped by again around noon. He appeared more relaxed in designer jeans, a light pink button-down T-shirt, and white sneakers.
"Hey, Avery," he said as if he belonged there. "I brought lunch," and he held up a picnic basket. "Hope I'm not too much of a nuisance, but my mother always said the way to a woman's heart is through food."
"You trying to get to my heart?" Avery asked.
"You know, you know," he said without meeting her gaze. "You saved my life. You're my partner. I saved your life."
He glanced up.
Dark brown eyes sought out her innermost feelings.
"If you don't want me to stay," he added and opened a basket full of fried chicken and cherries and soda, "I guess I could just go back home."
Avery smiled.
During the difficult times in her life, she'd always sought the company of men like Ramirez. No, she realized. Not exactly like him. The other men were harder around the edges, players, more interested in one-night stands than an actual relationship. But Ramirez, she thought, he's sweet. And cute. And he really does seem to care.
He's your partner! her mind blared.
So what? she thought with abandon. This is the new you, and the new you can do whatever she wants.
"Stay," she said with a mischievous grin. "I love lunch."
