“Yes. I’m prepared for it.” He lifted her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles. “I’m not running anymore, Vivienne. From you, from this, from whatever comes next. We’ll figure it out together.”
The tightness in her chest eased. “Together.”
“But we’re doing this carefully. Taking time. Not rushing into anything just because we survived a near-death experience.” Brooks’s expression turned serious. “You’re vulnerable right now, and so am I. We need to heal first, process what happened.”
“Slow.”
“Very slow.” But he smiled slightly.
A different knock. Dawn entered carrying a bag from Mrs. Mayer’s bakery and a thermos of tea.
“You’re awake. Good.” She set the bag on the bedside table. “I brought scones and that herbal blend you use after heavy spiritual work. Drink all of it.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Vivienne accepted the tea. The familiar blend of chamomile, lavender, and blessed thistle would help restore her depleted energy.
“The shop’s fine. I’ve handled the morning customers and closed for the afternoon.” Dawn pulled up the chair Porter had vacated. “Martha Morgan called. She wants to see you when you’re feeling better.”
“Tell her I’ll visit as soon as the doctor releases me.”
“I will.” Dawn looked between Vivienne and Brooks. “So. You two.”
“We’re figuring it out,” Brooks said.
“Good.” Dawn’s expression softened. “I’m glad you’re okay, Viv. Both of you. When I got the call last night saying Winston had taken you—” Her voice caught.
“I’m fine.” Vivienne reached for her cousin’s hand. “I promise.”
Dawn stood. “I should get back to the shop.”
After she left, Brooks helped Vivienne drink more tea. The herbal blend worked quickly, warmth spreading through her chest. The raw feeling in her abilities began to ease.
“What happens now? After I’m released?”
“We close the case officially. Process the evidence. Prepare for trials.” Brooks ticked off items on his fingers. “You recover. Get your strength back. Maybe take some time off from doing readings.”
“The spirits don’t take time off.”
“Then you learn to tell them to wait.” His expression turned stern. “What you did last night nearly killed you. You were shaking so hard in the ambulance I thought you were going into shock.”
“I was exhausted, not dying.”
“The line between those is thinner than you think.”
He had a point. Vivienne had been running on adrenaline and desperation for days, pushing her gift harder than she had in years.
“You’re right,” she admitted. “I need to rest. Properly rest.”
“How long does that take?”
“Depends. A few days, maybe a week. Complete rest. No readings, no spirit contact, no using the gift at all.”
“Then that’s what you’ll do.” Brooks’s tone left no room for argument. “After the doctor releases you, you go home and rest.Dawn can handle the shop. I’ll handle the FBI. You focus on healing.”
The doctor arrived for her examination—standard concussion protocols, checking her injuries, asking about pain levels. Everything looked good for a discharge later that afternoon.
After the doctor left, Vivienne leaned back against the pillows, exhausted again.
“Sleep,” Brooks said. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”
