For a split second, she stared at his back as he headed to the front door, then grabbed her bag and ran after him.

Inside the house, the shades were drawn, but she could still see well enough. As her grandmother’s place had been, the house was filled to the brim with furniture from another era, upon which knickknacks covered every inch. But there wasn’t a speck of dust anywhere, even the wood floors had been shined.

“In here!”

She and Dustin followed Zach’s voice down a hallway, its walls hidden by photographs from at least five decades, to a bedroom filled completely with lace. In the center, on the floor, lay Phyllis. Far too still at her feet sat Cecile, gaze glued to her mistress, tail twitching.

Zach was kneeling at Phyllis’s side, holding her hand, saying something to her.

Phyllis, eyes closed, responded with a nod. “Yes, Zachie, I can hear you. Tell Cecile I’m okay. She’s worried.”

“Phyllis, about your meds.” Zach spoke calmly, evenly, any personal concern well tucked away, but Brooke could see it in his eyes. “Did you forget to take them?”

“No, I took my damn pills. You hound me enough about it, I don’t forget.”

“Okay, good.” Zach squeezed her hand. “That’s good.”

Dustin moved in and crouched at her other side, and began taking vitals. Brooke recorded everything, all the while watching Zach be so sweet and gentle and kind.

Why she was surprised, she had no idea. She’d seen him in action before, with many victims by now, and he was always sweet and gentle and kind.

He’d been nothing but those things with her, as well.

And once, on a rock beneath a star littered sky, he’d been much, much more…

When it was determined that Phyllis had to be transported to the hospital, Zach helped get her on a gurney, where the older woman began to panic. “I can’t leave. What about Cecile?” Reaching out, she gripped Zach’s shirt with an iron fist. “I don’t want to go!”

“Phyllis.” Zach took both her hands in his. “Your doctor wants you to meet him at the hospital. He wants to stabilize your condition—”

“Condition shmondition. I don’t have time for him. I’m fine. Completely fine, I’m telling you.”

But she wasn’t. Her color was off, her breathing coming too shallow and too fast, and, given the grimace on her face, she knew it, too. “Damn it,” she said, sagging back. “Damn it. I’m not going.” But she said this much weaker than before. “I’m not. You can’t make me.”

“Phyllis.” Zach stroked back her gray hair as he leaned on the gurney to look into her eyes. “You do this for me and I’ll take care of Cecile. Okay?”

“You’ll take care of her?”

“I promise.”