Grabbing my phone out of my pocket, I pull up my bank account and let out a pained groan when I see the measly balance in my savings account. I doubt it’s even enough to buy the books I would need for one year of classes. Sighing, I go back to the home screen and open my messages before firing off one to my mom to let her know I made it home safe and sound. It’s just past two in the morning so she won’t get it until she wakes up but it will put her mind at ease and save me a sunrise visit from her when all I want to do is fall face first in this bed and sleep for the next twenty-four hours.
Pushing myself to my feet, I toss my phone back on the bed and amble over to the window before pushing it up just enough to let the scent of rain fill the room. Closing my eyes, I breathe it in for a moment before stripping out of my uniform and tossing it in the hamper. I grab the XXL t-shirt off the chair in the corner and slip it over my head before crawling into bed. Grabbing my phone off the mattress, I plug it in and set it on the table next to my bed before opening the drawer and laying my fingers on the cold metal of my pistol. Just knowing it’s there if I need it makes me feel more secure and I close the drawer again as I fluff up my pillow and lie down. The world goes dark as I pull the comforter up over my head and close my eyes, sleep already luring me into its warm embrace.
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
I shoot up, flinging the blanket back as I stare down the dark hallway, every hair on my arm raised. My hand reaches for the pistol mindlessly as I suck in a breath and remind myself that it’s probably Lonnie, the old drunk that lives down the hall. He’s always going to the wrong door and when his key doesn’t work, he’ll make a ruckus until someone points him in the right direction. Another round of pounding reverberates through the apartment and I open the drawer, grabbing the gun, as I push the covers off my legs. Nothing good can come from someone pounding on your door at two in the morning – even if it is just Lonnie. I slip out of bed just as the person at my door knocks again and I set the pistol down on the bed as I grab a pair of mesh shorts and slip them on. Once I’m dressed, I grab the gun again and creep down the hallway, my heart pounding and my body poised to strike at a moment’s notice.
A few feet from the door, my steps slow and I creep forward on tippy toes, trying to make as little noise as possible. When I reach the door, I glance in the peephole and my hand shakes as I watch the man in a suit on the other side who is clearly not Lonnie. He doesn’t seem threatening but Mom always taught us that you can never be too careful. A nice suit could make the devil look like a saint.
“What do you want?” I yell through the door, my grip firm on the gun and my finger hovering over the trigger.
“I need to speak to Miss Tatum Carter.”
I shake my head. “Not at two in the morning you don’t.”
“Please,” he says, lowering his voice. “I’m from the Baton Rouge Police Department and it’s urgent that I speak to Miss Carter.”
Sinking my teeth into my lip, I take a step back and look around before sucking in a breath before moving back to the door.
“Let me see your badge,” I order as I peer through the peephole again and he holds a badge and his ID up to the glass. I inspect it for a moment before stepping away from the door and setting the gun down on the table, away from me but still within reach. I unlock the deadbolt but leave the chain in place as I crack the door open and peer up at him.
“Let me see that badge again,” I say and he presents it to me. It may seem ridiculous but it was only a few months ago that a man dressed up as a police officer to gain access to the apartments of a few of my neighbors. He raped them and left them for dead.
“What do you want?” I ask when I’m done inspecting his ID and he slips it back into his pocket.
“Miss Carter, I presume?” he asks and I nod. “I’m Detective Rodriguez. Do you mind if I come in and speak to you for a moment?”
“About?”
“I would really prefer to speak to you about that inside, ma’am.”
I study him for another moment before nodding and closing the door to release the chain. When I open it again, he steps inside and scans the room, his gaze lingering on the pistol on the table before he turns to me with a quirked brow.
“It’s registered,” I assure him.
“You always keep it on the kitchen table?”
I shake my head. “No, but I’m a single woman living in one of the worst areas of town. It’s never far from me. Besides, you’re the one pounding on my door at two in the morning.”
“I do apologize for that. The subject is… sensitive and I needed to speak to you before anyone else did.”
I wrap my arms around myself. “Well, now you’re worrying me. What’s going on?”
“Please,” he says, gesturing to the table. “Have a seat.”
He sits at the head of the rectangular table and I choose the chair adjacent to him as he sets a folder down on the table. Sighing, he pulls a photo out of the folder and sets it down in front of me.
“Do you recognize this car?”
I nod, staring down at the dependable little Nissan she loves – now a mangled mess. “Yes, it’s my mother’s. What happened?”
Worry twists in my gut and it only gets worse when Detective Rodriguez looks uneasy. “At eleven fifty-three this evening, I was called to the scene of a hit and run accident involving this vehicle. When I arrived, they were loading a woman into the ambulance. They rushed her to the hospital and after all attempts to revive her, she was pronounced dead at twelve thirty-six a.m.”
“Are-are you telling me my mother is dead?” I stutter, pressing a hand against my chest in an attempt to restart my stalled heart. A roaring sound fills my ears and my mind blanks as I wait for his answer. An answer that I somehow already know – like I can feel it deep down in my gut – but I can’t believe it. Not until he says the words.
“That’s the reason I’m here, ma’am. We need you to identify the body.”
All the air rushes out of me and I nod. “Oh.”
Detective Rodriguez pulls another photo out and places it face down on the table in front of me. “I know this is a difficult time for you, Miss Carter, but the sooner we confirm that it is your mother, the sooner we can shift our focus to figuring out what really happened.”
The room spins as I stare at him, trying to process what he just said. How the hell am I supposed to do this? It can’t be true. Not my mother. She’s the strongest, bravest person I’ve ever met so there’s no way she was taken out by a simple car accident. It’s not possible. This doesn’t feel real. Like any moment, I’ll wake up and be back in my bed, under the covers. I set my shaking hand down on the table, my heart jumping into my throat as I try to convince myself to flip the photo over. My mind is screaming to do it but my hand won’t move as it desperately tries to save me from discovering the truth.
Lightning streaks across the sky as I reach forward and gently turn the photo over as the world around me fades out of focus. A sob lodges in my throat and I stare down at the photo of my beautiful mother, laid out on a metal autopsy table with a pale blue sheet pulled up over her chest. Tears spill down my cheeks and the sob that I was barely holding back tears through my lips. Detective Rodriguez lays his hand on top of mine and another sob rips through me. He doesn’t need me to say anything because the sound of my cries is all the evidence we both need. It’s my mother lying on that cold metal table in a morgue somewhere across town and in her death, she’s taking a chunk of my soul with her.