Christina actually felt the same. The situation itself felt too absurd to be taken seriouslythe sort of thing she might read about online or in a friends odd Facebook post. Also, with so many cops out and about to protect her and several others, surely there was an equal amount of manpower being used to find the killer. And though she felt this rather strongly, the fear was still there. To know there was a killer out there that had read her name on a list and may eventually make his way to her was unnerving. She supposed that was why she was starting to almost feel numb to it. It was the same feeling of danger she supposed some people got when walking by a hornets nest. You knew the hornets were there and would sting you if you got too close, but as long as you kept your distance, you were probably going to be fine.

Still, there was worry there. It made her both anxious and somehow very tired; it had been a long day at work, capped off with the phone call from the police. Honestly, she just wanted the day to be over. She checked the clock on the living room wall and saw that it was 10:20a little earlier than she preferred to go to sleep, but she figured with a melatonin in her, she could get to sleep and wake up in the morning with the good news that the killer had been caught. She could then resume her daily life, a life of work and an endless stream of worry about paying for doctors visits, worrying about only her liver and whether or not shed get a transplant before her liver caused an extensive hospital stay in about three or four months.

Jesus, maybe a killer might solve a bunch of these problems.

It was a terrible thought, but she was unable to keep it from coming. Shed noticed a bent towards darker humor in the days following the last testthe test that told her the outlook wasnt going to be great unless she could get a liver transplant.

Im going to head to bed, she told Ryan, leaning over and kissing him on the cheek.

You want me to come with you or stay down here to keep an eye on things?

Thats what the cops are for.

Yeah, I know, but…

He trailed off here, looking to the window shed been peeking out of and then back to her. She knew he wanted to be the biggest help he could be. It was probably not enough for him to know there were cops out there. Cops were not something he could control. But the Smith and Wesson tucked in the cushion about four feet away from him was totally within his control.

You do what you want, she said. But I think were okay.

Maybe Ill just finish watching the show and then come on up. You okay?