When We Were Still Human by Vaughn Foster (best ereader for textbooks .txt) 📕

“We understand this question may sound redundant,” he began. He chose his words carefully. “You had no previous relationship with the man who caused the incident earlier, did you?”

Val stared at each of the detectives, then blinked. “No. Why?”

“Nothing certain,” Ericson answered. “Your supervisor, Patricia, simply mentioned seeing a man of similar build with a near-identical red jacket walking away from the glass door you entered from. None of the security cameras caught him, but it’s definitely worth looking into.”

“But he didn’t even talk to me!” Val adamantly stomped her foot, but immediately felt childish. She cringed at the detectives’ patronizing nods. “He was in so much pain he could barely focus,” she said at lower volume. “Even when he threatened us, it was because he thought we were ignoring to treat him.”

Detective Omar cleared his throat, then glanced at Ericson. With a nod, they both turned back to Val.

“If it's alright with you, Miss Stephens, I think some tests should be run.”

Val paled. MRI. CAT. All the steps of the rape kit tests that’d soon have to follow. Or did they come before? Everything was swirling together.

How had this even happened? She played the footage back in her head for the fourth time, but still came up blank.

“Wait.” The soft murmur snapped her attention back to Ericson. He was scratching his chin in deep thought. “No, no, I don’t think tests will be needed.”

“You’re right.” Incredulous, Val looked to Omar. Like Ericson, he was musing over some unseen material. His eyes looked glazed over and she questioned if they’d been drugged in the brief lapse she’d been distracted.

“Stuff like this happens all the time,” he continued. “Yeah, nothing to worry about, Miss Stephens.”

Val opened her mouth to object, just as a wave of drowsiness washed over her. Rubbing her eyes, she blinked, then fought to process her surroundings. What were they doing? Patricia had said something about missing security footage.

“I’m sorry, detectives. What timestamps did you want to see again?”

Val sleepily glanced at the tech who was scrolling through hundreds of thumbnails.

Detective Ericson gave a dismissive wave. “Don’t worry about it. Isn’t that right, Miss Stephens?”

“Yeah… It’s nothing.” But even as she said it, she was struggling to remember what the it was. Nothing came. She was exhausted. Her dad was definitely right, she was overstressing herself. The drama in the E.R. yesterday, then staying up on the phone, then driving in high traffic had to be what did her in.

“Is it okay if I take off, detectives?” They both turned, seeming to have forgotten she was there.

“I think that’s perfectly fine,” Detective Ericson said. Omar nodded. With an awkward half-wave, Val moved to pick up her bag. She was stopped by something darting under the desk and into the ensuing shadows. Another look, however, revealed only the tech’s tapping feet. With another exhausted shrug, she grabbed her bag and exited the room.

As she walked down the hallway, a monstrous roar echoed from her stomach. Strange. She checked her phone. It had only been thirty minutes since she’d last eaten.

Her stomach growled again, and she returned her phone to her pocket. Sending a mental order for silence, she picked up the pace back to the parking lot. She’d eat later. For now—

A yawn cut her off. The spell of fatigue that’d come over her now urged for rest. A quick nap then she’d go by Jason’s. His plane was arriving in an hour or so. Wait— the landing had been

pushed up.

Quickly typing the number and hitting call, Val impatiently waited for him to pick up.

“Itttt’s Jason.”

Val rolled her eyes. “I told you to stop answering like that.”

“It’s charming—” He grunted like he’d bumped into something, then laughed. “It’s great to hear your voice. I’m about to grab my bags and it’s already a bit hectic. Can we talk when you get here tonight?”

“Yeah, no problem. Just wanted to make sure you got in okay. Oh, do I still need to pick up Fiona?”

“Nah, she’s going to stay at Brett’s another night.”

Val smiled. She loved the little Pomeranian, but Fiona had a tendency to kill the mood at the worst moments. “Perfect. See you tonight!”

“See you then!”

Five hours. She just had to make it five hours and—

Another growl. Maybe… She looked at her phone again and frowned. She still had tuna salad in the fridge. A quick snack, then nap. Then Jason.

An inhuman moan escaped from Val’s throat. Wiping the sleep from her eyes, she blinked, struggling to take in her surroundings. It was dark, but the bathroom light down the hall cast a shadow over the familiar dresser, nightstand, and pile of clothes by the door.

Climbing out of bed, Val hit the lights before standing in front of the mirror. Her hair was a tangled mess and deep lines were creased into her face from the sheets. Delicately, she reached behind her head and found where the gauze met. She didn’t have to change it for another day, but it was already crooked, and the front had folded in on itself. Whatever mattress acrobatics her unconscious self did while asleep had struck again. Her mother had always said that she slept like a rock but rolled around like a girl on fire.

Val braced herself for the sting of air hitting the cut then quickly undid the bandage. A puzzled frown crossed her face, and she leaned closer to the reflection. Not only was there no pain, but the cut was gone.

She ran her fingers along the smooth surface. Not even a scar. Picking the gauze up, there was a drop of scarlet where it had been pressed against her forehead, but nowhere near the amount that should have been bled.

With a shrug, she dropped the gauze again