Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 128083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128083 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 640(@200wpm)___ 512(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
“Detective Mauro,” Rex said, reaching out his hand. They shook, and then Cami did, too, as she greeted the man with a nod.
The detective inclined his head, and they turned and followed him a little way down the hall so their voices couldn’t be overheard from within Cyrus’s guarded room. There’d been a police car outside their rental all night, too, which had made her breathe easier.
“I was able to get some more information on Cyrus’s adoptive parents and the accident that killed them.”
Cami braced, and she wasn’t sure exactly why. Maybe because the couple that she’d only once seen a photo of, and then pictured in misty renderings over the years, was about to come into sharp focus. “The whole family was in the car when the accident occurred. Cyrus’s adoptive father, Gray Sanders, was driving. He was a disabled veteran who was injured in an IED explosion in the Middle East, and though he had a vehicle adapted to his injury, that didn’t seem to be a factor.”
She felt a jolt of confusion. “A disability? Was he injured before Cyrus’s adoption?”
“Yes. He’d suffered PTSD in the wake of his deployment but sought therapy. There’s no indication of a relapse. He held a steady job and, by all accounts, was a well-liked and respected man in the community.”
“The adoption agency, who did a thorough background check, should have known about his mental health struggles,” Rex said.
“Correct. It’s not always immediate grounds for disqualification, depending on the circumstances, but it should have been disclosed.”
Cami blew out a breath. “Because it speaks to future risk.” And perhaps even something that would have changed her mind. Regardless of what her own decision might have been, she knew for sure her father would have encouraged her to pass on the Sanders family. Why risk her infant with someone who may or may not be 100 percent stable, when there were so many other couples looking to adopt? Her dad had worked in the justice system—he was up close and personal with the way mental health crises ravaged families.
“They should have. I would think there’s a lawsuit there, if you choose to go that route,” the detective said.
She nodded distractedly. Maybe she’d think about that later. Although, how would that help in her specific case? The agency wasn’t even in business anymore, and the Sanderses were gone. She didn’t know Mr. Sanders or why he’d withheld the information of his injury, but she remembered his photo, remembered his steady gaze and the way she’d felt somehow . . . comforted when she’d looked at him. Mrs. Sanders had appeared kind and nurturing as well, but it was that steady gaze that had made up her mind to choose them to parent her baby.
She felt a shiver of grief on Cyrus’s behalf, followed by a pinch of fear. God, Cyrus was doubly lucky to be alive. In recent years, he’d walked away from a deadly car accident and a kidnapping. Her main concern was the emotional damage he’d suffered, both from those traumatic events and also from the terrible loss he’d suffered. And forevermore, she’d have to grapple with the fact that it was her fault. Perhaps she’d chosen wrongly. Even if his parents had been good to him, perhaps if she’d kept him herself, his young life wouldn’t have been filled with so much adversity. A do-over indeed. Only that was impossible. She didn’t get to go back. She didn’t get to know what outcome would have served him better.
“So no foul play at all then?” Rex asked. “With the accident?”
“None that the investigators found. It appeared to be weather related. A truck hydroplaned on ice and hit their car head-on. The driver wasn’t charged. He did everything he could to avoid their vehicle.”
“God, poor Cyrus,” Cami murmured. He must have been so scared. So helpless. A little boy sitting in the car’s back seat as a truck barreled toward them. The picture she conjured was terrifying, even in her imagination, and she’d have given anything to be placed back there with him, to do something. To protect him any way she was able.
“The good news is that the kid is resilient,” Detective Mauro said. “He’s got all the nurses charmed and is kicking butt with a chess set he requested from the gift shop.”
“Can I see him now?” Cami asked. All this worry, all these imaginings and what-ifs had lit a flame inside of her, and the need to see him with her own eyes. To know he was well.
As if on cue, the door to his room down the hall opened, and a smiling nurse exited. She nodded to the officer and then began walking toward the three of them. “How’s he looking?” Detective Mauro asked.
“My grandmother would have said he’s a little pistol,” the nurse said affectionately. “There’s no reason he needs to be here any longer. I just need to have the doctor sign off real quick, and he’s set to go.” She looked over at Cami as though she’d assumed immediately—correctly, as it were—that she was his mother. “I’d get him scheduled with a therapist who’s good with kids as soon as possible. It’s the ones who show a lot of bravado who we often don’t know are really struggling. Even if he’s not, it couldn’t hurt to talk about what he’s been through.”