Give Me Hope by Zoey Derrick Read Free Book Online Page B

irritated or impressed by his question. I reach for my wallet, but it’s not there. Damn it.  
    “It’s in my bag,” I say, letting him know that I need to reach into someplace he can’t see.  
    “Mind if I check?” he asks.  
    I hold out the bag to him.  
    “Set it down, please, and take three steps back.”  
    I seriously want to roll my eyes. I’m the last person they need to worry about. But I take a comfort in knowing that if I have to go through this much trouble, so will everyone else.  
    I take the three steps back plus one for good measure, trying not to seem as impatient as I feel. “It should be right on top,” I say. “If it’s not there, then it’s in the long side pocket.”  
    He begins opening up the zipper on the top. I can see when he opens it that my wallet is not there. My heart skips a beat. Crap, I could have sworn I put it in the main compartment.  
    He doesn’t hesitate but goes straight into the side pocket. I can’t see what he’s seeing, but he puts his hand in and moves a few things around. “Is this it?” He looks up at me as he pulls out my black leather wallet.  
    “Yes, sir.”  
    He stands back up, looking inside the wallet, glancing from me to the driver’s license. “I need to search your bag, Mr. Blake.”
    “Whatever you need.”  
    He bends back down and starts glancing through my bag. Nothing but a few articles of clothing and my shaving kit are inside. Laptop and cell phone chargers are also in there, but he seems satisfied at a cursory glance.  
    “Can you put your hands on the wall next to you?”
    Oh for crying out loud. I turn toward the wall, put my hands up and spread my legs slightly. He comes up behind me and quickly pats down my under my arms and hips and runs his hands down the outside of my legs to my ankles and stands.  
    “Here’s your wallet. As long as were here, we won’t bother you again. Our shift changes at midnight. After that, make sure you have at least your wallet when you leave the room,” he states matter-of-factly.
    “How long will officers be posted here?” I ask.
    “Until she is discharged or the suspect is caught, whichever comes first.”
      “Detective Stevens?”  
      He nods curtly. “He’s pretty adamant about keeping her well-protected. From what I understand of the situation, I don’t blame him for that.”
    I nod at him. “May I go in now?”
    “Absolutely.” He steps aside, and the other officer moves away from the door to allow me to pass.  
    I can’t help but feel slightly grateful for their presence here. “Thank you, gentlemen,” I say.  

    After all my eagerness to see her, I suddenly feel anxious.  
    As if in slow motion, I watch my hand reach for the door handle. Turn it. I hear and feel the click as it unlatches. I push, moving forward with the door. It feels like minutes before I clear the jamb and step into the room.  
    A curtain separates me from the rest of the room. I shut the door behind me. Soft lamp light comes through the curtain.
    It takes a moment before I can make myself step past the curtain; after everything Dr. Alston told me about her condition, I’m afraid of what I’m going to see on the other side. Then the image of her walking toward me in the dream surfaces – Vivienne in a white gown, her vibrant red hair flowing over her shoulders. Beautiful.
    I take a deep breath, reach for the curtain with my free hand and gingerly slide it back. I let out the breath I’ve been holding when I realize that I can’t really see anything yet. There is a small hallway and the room opens up to the left.  
    I set my bag down along the wall opposite the bathroom and take a few steps forward. The room is decorated in pale blues with a flower wallpaper boarder at the top of the walls. The only furniture is a cherry wood cabinet, a roll-away bed with blankets and pillows on top, and Vivienne’s bed.  
    As I take another step into the room, I hear the faint, rhythmic wheezing of