Afterward, she stared through the windshield for a moment. She thought of the patrol car outside of her house and was suddenly very sure it wasnt enough. She should be home. She should be there, with Paige and Peter, even if Peter wanted nothing to do with her. To hell with this case and, for now, to hell with this job. She needed to be at home with her family.

But she knew Peter wouldnt allow it. Hed push her away, saying he couldnt trust her. Hed tell her that he didnt need her anymore and that he and Paige would be just fine without her.

The feeling gave her something of a lightbulb moment. Was that why she was refraining from telling Paige or Jack about the tumor? Was she afraid of just how quickly theyd be okay without herof how quickly theyd come to understand that theyd be just fine when she was gone?

Before she had time to reflect on this, Jacks irritated voice broke her train of thought apart.

To hell with that. Call the prison and speak to the warden. Speak to someone.

And do you know what theyll tell me? That they need to speak with my director in order to make anything of it. So lets just wait for Anderson to call back.

He opened his mouth to argue back, but he knew she was right. He sighed and looked to her as if he wanted to hug her. Christ, Rachel. What do you want to do now?

Well, the other call was from Deputy Stanhope. Hes emailing me the medical records. The warrant went through.

He shook his head and looked out of the window, seemingly irritated. She almost commented on this but turned her attention to the phone. She feared if they started talking about the Lynch issue, it would open up other things. She was feeling off-balance enough as it was, and she feared that might lead to her telling him about her diagnosis.

And would that really be so bad?

She squashed the question and opened Stanhopes email as soon as it arrived. She opened the first of the PDFs and started scanning Bruce Webbers medical records. The records were from more than one place, and a compilation of the different doctors hed seen. There were roughly thirty pages for Webber and the last page among them were the forms regarding his placement on a transplant list.

Want me to forward this to you, too? she asked Jack.

May as well. Usually, shed expect him to make a smart-ass remark. Maybe something like I could use some light reading or something like that. But he was still upset about the last few minutes, his tone dry and very to-the-point.