He shook his head. “I don’t know. It’s all I’ve been able to think about in between making sure you weren’t going to die. I went to see Dustin once more after that—a couple of days after he was released—and he was still doing great. With the help of one of the counselors at the center, he had a job lined up and a place to live. He said getting out of the Army was the best decision he’d made in a long time. He seemed happy, Sarah. Really happy about everything.”

She frowned. “Then you missed something.”

He stood and slammed a fist onto the desk behind him.

“Cade!”

He whirled back to face her. “Don’t you think I’ve thought of that? I keep going over it and over it in my head, wondering what I missed. How could I not pick up on that he was so depressed he was thinking of killing himself? How?” Tears stood in his eyes.

“No, no, no. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s not your fault.” She pressed a hand against her side, keeping the pain from her expression. If Cade thought she was hurting, he’d change the subject.

“But that’s just it,” he said. “How can it not be my fault? As far as anyone knows, other than the hospital staff, I was the last one to see him alive.”

Sarah closed her eyes. “It’s not your fault. It’s not my fault. I’m not even sure it’s the general’s fault, but I’m okay with blaming him.” She swallowed hard and opened her eyes. “Only I can’t. As much as I hate to say it, this is Dustin’s fault. He’s the one who made the choice.”

Caden pressed his fingers to his eyes, then sat down next to her. “Yeah, but what did we miss?”

“We could do this all day, making ourselves crazy, trying to find a place to put the blame. I, for one, would prefer to look for answers.”

His gaze sharpened. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I want to talk to the people who were treating him, the people at the rehab center where he was getting help for his alcohol addiction, the nurses and doctors that worked with him on a daily basis, the counselor who helped him get the job and apartment. Everyone.”

“Sarah—”

“No. Someone missed something—not you, not me—but the professionals who’re trained to work with people like Dustin. They missed something.” She paused and looked away. “Have you searched his home yet?”

Caden grimaced. “No. The general told me to take care of it, and I haven’t been able to bring myself to go over there yet—or found the time, what with nursing my sister back to health.”

“The general,” she muttered. “I don’t want to hear about him.”