Dear Rosie - Page 212
I won’t let my life ruin yours.
Love,
Rosalyn
Rosalyn.
She signed it fuckingRosalyn.
Putting distance between us with every word.
I tear the page out of the notebook and crumple it in my fist.
She thinks I’d call the fucking copson her.
How could she believe that?
How could she even think that?
Because she’s had a lifetime of disappointment and isolation.
I spin around and stride toward my office.
If she thinks I’ll let her go, she’s out of her damn mind.
I drop into my chair and fire up my computer.
I’m not letting her go.
Not today.
Not ever.
As my equipment wakes up, I initiate a call.
Tony answers. “For real, do you ever fucking sleep?”
“What do you know about medical records?”
“Now, that’s an interesting question.” I’ve caught his attention. “And lucky for you, I know quite a bit.”
“I can handle the digital, but I need the physical copies destroyed.”
He hums. “That can be done. Where?”
My fingers tighten around the phone. “My hometown.”
“Name?”
I tell him.
Hanging up, I pull up the software that shows me Rosie’s location.
The glowing dot is steady on the map.
I zoom in.
Two towns away, at a chain hotel.
