Monster Like You

Chapter 26

I thought that it was impossible to leave Alyss lying like this any longer, that we should call the CLEC at least anonymously, but Nathaniel convinced me that the later Cerberus Corps found out about her death, the more time we would have.

"Alyss's not here anymore, Vet," he said. "There is no way to make it better or worse for her. It's just a body."

My rational half agreed with him.

The return home was a blur. No, I didn't lose consciousness and didn't cry, forgetting everything.

Maybe sometimes she made unnecessary movements, but in general she behaved calmly. Even climbed the fire escape without hesitation and problems. I just barely noticed anything around. And I didn't feel anything.

When I was back in my living room, the first thing I did was turn off the light we had left and turn off the TV. Both were too annoying. When it became quiet and dark around me, I looked around, but I didn't see Nathaniel next to me. He had already gone either to another room or to the kitchen. I probably should have followed him to talk about what it all means and what we should do next, but I could only sit down exhausted on the floor, leaning back against the sofa. I don't know why I didn't sit on the sofa itself.

Light fell from the hallway into the living room, reflected from the dark surface of the TV, and thanks to it I saw my own reflection. It riveted the eye, making me think of a girl who looked so much like me in everything.

"Where's your tablet?" Nathaniel suddenly asked, appearing on the threshold. "We need to look at the records."

My head refused to work. It took me a while to figure out what he was asking, and then to remember where the damn tablet was.

"I think it's in the bag I left in the hallway when I got home from work."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Nathaniel nod and disappear. It became a shame. His prototype, no matter how busy he was, always found a few minutes to talk to us. Calm. To encourage. Or talk some sense into it. At work, we often faced dramatic situations, sometimes it was difficult not to take them to heart. In difficult cases, our group included psychologists who worked with the victims and with us, if necessary, but when they were not there, to some extent our senior investigator took on this role. And I have never been able to understand what he himself feels at these moments.

The new Nathaniel seemed to be too caught up in our "investigation" to spend two minutes comforting.

Mentally, I understood that it was probably a hundred times harder for him now than for me. After all, he found out about the death of a woman with whom he was close and to whom, no matter what he said, he had some feelings. And besides, he found out that his child was born after all, but now he has disappeared somewhere. And if he was taken by the one who killed Alyss and who tried to kidnap him, then this child is in great danger.

But I didn't want to listen to reason anymore. I was hurt, scared, bitter and ashamed. And as a result, I feel very sorry for myself. So I wrapped my arms around my knees, buried my face in them and cried.

I didn't hear him approach me again. I realized this only when Nathaniel touched my back with his hand, slid his palm over it, comforting, and quietly called:

"Vet, take this, have a drink."

I straightened up, sobbing convulsively and smearing tears on my cheeks. He shoved a glass into my hands, and in the dark I couldn't see what was poured in it. Only after taking a big sip and feeling the tart taste, she choked and coughed in surprise.

"You should have poured it into a cup," I wheezed, although the wine wasn't really that strong. It's just that the voice wasn't listening anyway.

"Sorry, I don't know where you have the right glasses for red wine," Nathaniel snorted in his usual manner. "You should have something stronger now, but I didn't find any other alcohol."