I heard a scuffle, then a tight “What is your point?” from Reyes.

When Angel spoke again, his voice was slightly higher than before. “You don’t get it, pendejo. Maybe she just wants to be normal for a little while.”

Another pause.

Angel coughed and Reyes asked, “What do you mean?”

“Maybe, I don’t know… Maybe she just needs a break from all the bullshit. It’s controlled her life since the day she born.”

“Kid has a point,” Osh may or may not have said. Still wasn’t sure.

“Fuckin’ A, I have a point. A razor-sharp one, cabrón.”

Overall, this was a really unusual dream. Most of my dreams were filled with utter nonsense and questions like what color scythe would go best with my sweater. No idea. But this one had no pictures. Just darkness. And voices. And a hand on my arm. But it wasn’t until I felt the tongue slide up my face that realization sank in.

I’d fainted! My lids flew open, and humiliation surged through me. I was such a dorknado. Not only had I fainted, I’d done it in the arms of Reyes Farrow. I groaned and slapped a hand over my eyes. No telling what he thought of me now.

Artemis, the departed Rottweiler I’d met after waking up in the alley, whined and scooched closer, almost pushing me off the cot. I gave her a quick hug, then replaced my hand.

“Hey, sweetheart,” a male voice said, but it was not a voice I particularly wanted to hear.

Artemis growled. I only knew her name because her collar had a tag on it, but she’d stuck with me through thick and thin. Mostly thin. She also had an affinity for showers, but only while I was taking one, and cooking, but only while I was in the kitchen. She could materialize anywhere, including on the countertop where I prepared food, which wasn’t as bad as it sounded. She was departed, after all. How germy could she be?

I pried open my lids one at a time and focused through my fingers. Officer Ian Jeffries sat on the cot beside me in his police uniform, his blond hair cut military short, his jaw freshly shaven.

He’d been the responding officer that first night when I woke up in the alley and walked into the café with exactly zero memories. Since then, he’d taken it upon himself to check up on me almost daily. Sometimes several times a day.

He was sweet for the most part and very nice looking, but I got a strange vibe off him, a possessiveness, as though he felt he had dibs on me because he’d helped me that first night. He’d gone with me to the hospital and stuck around when a detective questioned me. When Dixie showed up and offered me a place to stay and a job until I got my head screwed back on straight – her words – he’d insisted on driving me back to the café, to what would become my accommodations for the next two weeks.

I glanced around. I’d lived in this storeroom until I found an apartment. Thankfully, Dixie had connections and convinced my current landlord I was a good egg – again, her words – and that he should rent to me despite my lack of credit history. Or any history, for that matter.

I was hoping to see Reyes and whomever he’d been arguing with. Instead, I got Ian. I tried not to get rankled by his use of the too-familiar colloquialism. His sweetheart I was not, but rankled wasn’t my best look.

“I heard you took quite a spill.” He drew tiny circles on my arm with his thumb. Tiny, possessive circles that sent shivers lacing up my spine. I didn’t want to seem ungrateful for everything he’d done, but he was a cop. Responding to a call. Wasn’t that, like, his job?

I lowered my hand. “I barely remember what happened,” I croaked. Literally. Suddenly thankful Reyes wasn’t within earshot.

And I’d lied. I remembered everything about Ana and her life, but it was just too much to process at the moment. Too impossible. Too unbelievable.

“I’m just glad you’re okay. I’ll drive you home when you’re ready.”

I eased onto my elbows as an excuse to get his hand off me. Artemis took that as her cue to dive-bomb me. Air whooshed out of my lungs, then again when she used my stomach as a launch pad to bigger and better things, disappearing into the otherworld.

“That’s okay,” I said, my voice tight as I fought a groan of agony. “I still have some work to do.”

He chuckled. “I think Dixie will let you off this once.”

I didn’t want to tell him about the other work I needed to get to that had nothing to do with Dixie or the café.

Fortunately, Cookie came in with a bottle of water and a washcloth.

“You’re awake,” she said, relief evident as though she let out a breath she’d been holding.

“That I am.”

She gave Ian a harsh glare and shooed him out. “She needs rest,” she said, and while I didn’t, I was not about to argue.

The minute she waved the washcloth, encouraging him to leave, a spike of anger shot out of him. It made my own ire rise in reflex.

“I’m fine, Ian.”

“I’ll wait for you out here.”

“She already has a ride,” Cookie said. She seriously didn’t like the guy. It cracked me up.

But another spike of anger set me on edge, and this time I was the one who leveled a heated glare on him. He was about to argue when he got a call on the handheld at his shoulder. He gave me a curt nod, then left.

“That man,” Cookie said as she pulled up a box and sat down beside me. She arranged the cloth on my head. It felt heavenly. Next, she forced the water bottle into my hand and watched with toes tapping until I downed at least half.

“You’re dehydrated,” she said, and she was right. I seriously needed to cut back to ten cups of coffee a day.

“What time is it?” I asked.

“It’s almost four thirty.”

I bolted upright. “I’ve been out for hours.”

She patted my shoulder, then took my hand into hers. “We were going to call an ambulance —”

“No!” I said with more aggression than I meant. I took another sip of water and forced myself to calm down. “No, it’s all good. Thanks for that. I have enough bills to last me a lifetime.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that, honey.”

Clearly she hadn’t seen the paper mountain growing in my apartment.

“Can you tell me what happened?”

To my surprise, I wanted to tell her. I wanted to trust her, but I couldn’t be certain she wouldn’t try to have me committed.

And how could I explain the things I saw? The things I experienced? Truth was, even though I’d only known her for a month, I loved Cookie. A lot. A really, really lot. I didn’t want to taint her opinion of me. I didn’t want her to look at me with anything other than admiration. Or befuddlement, depending.

“I’m fine. I just got light-headed.”

“Good. But are you okay okay? With everything? We haven’t really talked about your… situation in a while. Maybe, you know, the stress —?”

Ah. Was I okay with being the local amnesia chick? “I think I’m okay. I mean, I look at everyone who walks into the café to see if there’s any resemblance, but I’m dealing with it.”

She nodded, her sympathy genuine. “Have you thought about therapy?”

“Yes, I have. And as soon as I sell that kidney I listed on eBay, I’ll be able to afford it.”