“Kent, if I talk will that distract you?"
“No, ma'am."
“Trey, I have something to say."
“Mal it can wait."
“No, it can't. I want you to know why I left."
His voice was just above her. “Mallory, you aren't going to die." He put his hand on her head.
“Let me speak. I've got a bomb in my hand."
“No, not now."
“Trey, listen."
“Sir, let her talk. She's moving when she's agitated."
“Go ahead, Mal."
“There's a grave you need to see," she began. Her breath caught in her throat. Just their old supervisor knew. “A child's grave."
“I'm listening," said Trey.
“Our child's. I was pregnant on that last case. I miscarried him."
“Him?"
“It was a little boy. I was in the hospital in an attempt to save the pregnancy, but they had to take him."
Silence, but for wires being clipped. “Almost do
