“THANK GOD, TOM,” ANNA says. “I can’t reason with her.”
“I could hear her yelling from outside,” I say. “I’m surprised the neighbors haven’t complained.”
“They’re probably used to it by—” Anna stops herself.
My brows narrow. “This has happened before?”
Anna opens her mouth to speak when Helen yells, “Tom! I need my gun! Where is it?”
I step around Anna and walk down the small hallway. As soon as I see her, my worst fears are realized. Helen is standing in the middle of the room, covered in sweat and screaming obscenities. The apartment, which Anna had cleaned before Helen arrived, is in complete disarray.
I go over and put my hands gently on her shoulders. “No you don’t, honey. You just need to calm down.”
“I’ll be calm once I have my gun again,” she says frantically. Her eyes are a
