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28

Sweets is kissing me.
It's such a shock at first, that I don't know what to do, but as his lips soften against mine, I sink into the feeling, and let my mind run away with my warm heart.
His hands shift to cradle the back of my head, and it's one of the most secure and wonderful feelings in the world, to feel held.
I can't stop my hands from finding their place, my thumbs tucked in the gentle dip below his jawbone.
In the dark, I can vaguely see his shape when we pull apart, and I can feel his gaze wholly on me as we breathe the same air.
Suddenly, there's a furious rap at the door, as if someone was trying to drill a hole through the wood with their knuckles.
Daisy.
"Does she have a key?" I murmur, my chin on his shoulder, my lips by his ear.
He shakes his head, his hands sliding down my arms.
The knocking ensues, and finally I sigh before throwing off the sheet and standing up.
I straighten my hair and open the door a crack.
Daisy is wild-eyed, and I feel guilty almost immediately.
"Oh thank god," she all-but cries shrilly. "I was worried he was alone."
She doesn't suspect anything?
Daisy crosses the threshold to Sweets, who's sitting up.
She leans across the bed to fix his hair lovingly, and I watch as he sits dazed, not really feeling anything.
"I came from the hospital," Daisy says quietly, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "I think a transformer blew, so this half of town is mostly without power."
I nod absentmindedly, feeling like an intruder, because that's exactly what I am. A home-wrecking, intruding, jealous whore. Something inside me crumbles. Not shattered, not exploded, not snapped, just... fallen apart.
That's not who I am. I'm a good person. What am I doing? Who am I to do something so terrible?
"Papillon?" Daisy asks tentatively. "are you okay?"
I nod, hoping the dark obscures the tears lining my lashes.
"Yes," I breathe. "I'm just tired. I'll see you at work tomorrow."
I turn and leave.
***
I don't go to the hospital. Instead, I sit in the shower, well past when the water runs frigid. I open the windows wide, letting the cold air freeze my damp skin and soaked hair. I don't really eat much. On the third day, I let myself check my cell phone. Several missed calls from Sweets, two from Booth and one from an unknown number. My curiosity momentarily stops my stuffed-up breathing, and I instinctively call it. I wait breathless as it rings.
Someone picks up.
"Hello?" asks a familiar female voice.
"Hi," I say, caught by surprise.
She called.
"Uh, this is the girl that gave you her number on the pier?"
"Oh yeah," she says absentmindedly, her voice dropping in volume to a whisper. "I called because I need help. I know you're a cop."
I hesitate.
She continues. "I left you those coins. I heard there was a cop in town, so I hoped it was you."
"Okay," I say softly.
"Someone killed Callie," her voice trembles. "and her baby."
"I'm so sorry," I breathe.
So it was Callie lying in the hospital.
"I know who did it, but I need you here. They're going to skip town if any more cops come knocking, so only you can come."
I nod excitedly before saying, "yes, of course, I'll be there in an hour."
I hang up, and change into street clothes before jogging out to Sweets' car. I hesitate, before continuing on to a bus stop.
I catch the next bus to Pelican Pier, and watch as the wind picks up the dust on the worn wooden planks and turns it into a barrage of sand.
"Hey," the girl says suddenly, emerging from a side building.
Her eyes are wide as she grabs my wrist and takes me off a beaten trail next to the pier and into a homeless camp. Tents line the sand. She hushes me, and drags me to one on the outskirts of the others.
I look at her questioningly.
"It's his tent," she whispers fiercely.
"Whose?"
A shadow looms over us.
"Mine."
My face hits the sand the moment everything goes blazingly dark.