Death is a Girl

Chapter 88 - Reunion

Morrigan ended up catching up on some of her lost sleep from the night before until a sudden tapping on the door jerked her awake. “Morrigan, are you in there?”

Morrigan sat up, feeling exhausted. She looked over to Pepper’s bed and saw she was gone.

“I’m coming in,” the voice called again, and Morrigan realized it was Sarrah a moment before the door opened. “Oh, good. There you are.”

Morrigan huffed and flopped back down. “What? Thought I slipped away?”

“Not exactly. Anyway, I have some good news.”

Morrigan instantly sat up again. There was only one topic of good news that could be coming from Sarah right now.

“Your mom is awake and responsive. The doctors said it’ll be okay to come see her today.”

Morrigan nodded her head, letting out a heavy breath that she felt like she had been holding ever since yesterday. It was still hard to believe all of this started only a day ago.

“Saffron arranged things with Detective Grant, and he agreed to escort you back to the hospital. Now, make sure you’re on your best behavior. He was under no obligation to do this, and we wouldn’t have been able to get you to the hospital otherwise.”

“Yeah, I get it… So when are we going?”

“They should be here in about an hour.”

“Why isn’t Saffron taking me instead?”

“Well, first of all, she’s at the hospital with your mother already. She’s discussing a few things with her. The other reason is one you’re well aware of.”

Morrigan scoffed. “Why would I try running when I’m on my way to see my mom? That’s all I wanted in the first place, you know.” That was partially a lie, but with her ankle still sprained running from Grant probably wouldn’t work out either way.

“It’s leaving the hospital they are more worried about, Morrigan. Last time you disappeared, you were gone for three months.”

“Then I suppose swinging by my house to get some spare clothes isn’t going to happen?”

Sarah frowned. “From my understanding… I don’t think you want to go there.”

“I already saw,” Morrigan said as she got out of bed. She cracked her neck as she walked to the window.

“You… did?” Sarah asked cautiously.

“Yeah. The bathroom. I went home first after I heard, then I went to the hospital. Anyway, you said they’re getting me in an hour?”

Sarah paused as she looked on Morrigan sympathetically, though Morrigan’s own gaze was out the window. After a moment, she said, “Yes, Grant will be here in an hour.”

***

Shortly later, Morrigan found herself in the back of Grant’s squad car once again, except this time she wasn’t in handcuffs, and he seemed to be talking to her like an actual human being outside of just asking questions. “So, Sarah mentioned you wanted to get some stuff from your house on our way back?”

“Um, yeah. Just clothes and some other stuff, if you can.”

“Yeah, shouldn’t be a problem, it’s on the way anyway. As long as you can fit it in one bag. And just so you know, they’ll want to search everything you bring in. So don’t try sneaking in anything stupid.”

“Are you serious? What do you think I would bring in?”

“Could be anything,” Grant said, shrugging one shoulder as he drove. “Drugs, for example. It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Well, I don’t do drugs, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

“Don’t take it personally; it’s just about following procedures.”

Morrigan sighed. “Okay, I get that. But your procedures involve treating innocent people like criminals from the very start. How can you expect anyone to trust you when you don’t even trust them first?”

“Is that why you refused to answer my questions the other day?”

“You just never asked anything worth answering.”

Grant looked at her in the review mirror and chuckled. He then said, “Well… I had a long chat with Mr. Crowley.”

“About what?”

“What you’ve been doing for the last three months. He tells me you were basically his live-in housekeeper.”

“If that’s what he told you, then I guess that’s what I’ve been doing,” Morrigan said offhandedly. She knew better than to answer any questions directly, and she didn’t trust that he had no ulterior motives.

“Well, I’ll just ask again. You sure everything's alright with that guy?”

“If he wasn’t a good guy, then why would I protect him?”

“You’d be surprised. Victims protect their abusers more often than you would think. Usually due to threats or gaslighting. I’m just saying, though, if there is anything you’d like to say about him, you’d have nothing to worry about as far as any of that goes.”

“I said he’s fine. I lied about my age, so he didn’t think there was anything wrong with me staying with him. I also gave him a story about how I was in need, and he made a deal for me to just help him out. You know, odd jobs and stuff.”

“And he believed you?”

She shrugged. “I’m a good actor when I need to be.”

Grant was silent for a moment until he said. “Yeah. I got that impression from your friends.”

“Um… Hilda and Emma?”

“No, your friends from school. When I was investigating, it seemed all of them had a different impression of you than what was real. You did such a good job fabricating a different version of your life, at first I thought I was investigating the wrong Morrigan.”

Morrigan kept her mouth shut. That’s one more thing on her plate, the fact that all her lies about her life were unveiled to her friends at school. Funny, though, she barely cared about that. It was such a low priority in light of everything else that’s been going on. Part of her couldn’t believe life was once so simple that her social image was the biggest thing she had to worry about. It all seemed so trivial now.

“I also discovered your fake card, by the way.”

Morrigan turned her gaze out the window. Shit! It’s okay, just don’t say anything. If he were going to arrest you for that, he would have done so already.

“Don’t worry, I’m not doing anything about it unless they figure it out themselves. It only had a limit of five hundred dollars, after all. Of course, if the credit card company does figure it out themselves and decides to press charges, that’ll be out of my hands.”

“So what, are you using that as a bargaining chip or something? I have no idea what you’re talking about either way, but even if I did, that would be illegal. That’s called blackmail.”

Grant laughed. “You’re pretty suspicious, aren't you?”

“Do you blame me?”

“No, to be honest. If I were in your shoes, I’d probably be the same way. But I’m just saying, had anyone else given me that story Mr. Crowley did, I’d think he was up to something and coached you on what to say. But I don’t think that’s the case with you. I think you really did trick that old guy into thinking you were eighteen and down on your luck.”

“So what’s your point?”

“That you’re someone who knows how to survive. I bet if you did give me the slip yesterday, we’d never catch you again, and you’d probably have been just fine. You strike me as that kind of kid. You know how to get what you need.”

“If that’s what you think, then why don’t you just let me go?”

“Because survival for you means doing things that are illegal and manipulating people. That kind of behavior almost always goes down a bad road. Credit fraud at your age would just be the start of it. So if we can intervene now and get you out of the habit of just conning your way from one place to the next, maybe you’ll end up on a better road and doing something better with those smarts of yours.”

Morrigan believed him; he sounded sincere anyway. There was a time not long ago when his intervention would make sense, but she wasn’t some random troubled teen. She was a reaper. Her future was one that made any goodwill offered by a cop or a social worker completely irrelevant.

“Thanks for taking me to see my mom, by the way.”

He looked in the mirror and smiled. “No problem. Just glad I can help.”

***

Detective Grant seemed to keep within arms' reach as he led her into the hospital. She tested it a few times by subtly walking in a way that created more distance, but he always seemed to match her movement. It seemed he was fully prepared for her to attempt to give him the slip. He apparently didn’t know about her ankle, though. Walking was bearable but uncomfortable. Slamming her feet on the ground repeatedly in a full run would be way too much pain for her to ignore. So, he legitimately had nothing to worry about.

“Hello, we’re here to see Anna Livingston,” Grant said to the receptionist.

“I’ll buzz you in. It's room 161.”

Morrigan actually had a pang of anxiety clutch her as she realized she was about to see her mom. It's what she had been waiting for, but it still felt awkward. She hadn’t talked to her in three months, and that was before all the hearsay about her being a murderer and eventually attempting suicide. Morrigan still felt guilty, like it was her fault… well, she knew for a fact it was her fault, and it made her feel even more guilty about how she would always look down on her mom.

“So I think Saffron’s still with her,” Grant said as he led her toward the ICU. “We’ll hang out for a few minutes, and if everything looks good, we’ll give you and your mom some privacy.”

“Looks good?” Morrigan asked.

“That there’s not too much stress. The doctors are still worried; she’s very much in a recovery state, just so you know.”

“It was pretty bad, huh…” Morrigan muttered under her breath.

Then, as her eyes came up, she saw a familiar black feline sitting on his haunches in front of the bathroom door. Morrigan did a double take on Grant to confirm that he couldn’t see Noir.

Noir’s tail flicked, and he nodded his head toward the woman's bathroom. Morrigan nodded, then asked, “Detective Grant. Can I use the bathroom first?”

“Of course, go right ahead.”

“Sorry, nerves,” Morrigan said and hurried toward the bathroom. She opened the door, Noir slipping in by her feet; then she glanced under the stalls to be sure nobody else was there. Once she confirmed they were alone, she hid inside a stall and asked, "Noir! What took you so long?”

“Apologies. Master and I have been preoccupied.”

“Preoccupied? I’m sorry, but what has Death had on his plate exactly other than gaming where you guys couldn’t spare a moment to bring me a key!”

“A number of things.” His tail flicked. “But it was not necessary until now. I’ve simply come to tell you that you have three clients to reap tonight after midnight.”

“Great. So do you have my skeleton key?”

“I’ll return it to you tonight. My apologies, but Master and I are both concerned about it entering human possession again. Therefore, we don’t want to give it to you until you are ready to escape.”

“Right… makes sense. So why did Death introduce himself as Mr. Crowley? That didn’t seem necessary.”

“Well, the main reason was to retrieve your skeleton key from the evidence room at the police station. The other reason, if I understand, is simply that he thought it would benefit you to have a believable story. He did not give them the location of his true cabin, of course. Only one of his alternate properties.”

"Alternate properties?"

"Yes, he has several."

"So just how rich is Death, again?"

"Maintaining financial stability as an immortal is something I'm sure he'll cover with you when the time comes."

“Right..." Morrigan sighed. "I still would have liked to hear from you guys a little sooner, though. Oh, and I reaped a hollow, by the way.”

“So you did. Well done.”

“That's all you have to say?”

His whiskers knitted. “Well what were you expecting? I do think it's good you’ve shown you’re able to take some initiative on your own, at least.”

Morrigan narrowed her eyes at him. Even when he complimented her, it sounded like an insult.

“Anyway… So what about Alice? Any news with her?”

“I spent the majority of last night searching for her but to no avail. I know master wishes to speak with her about what exactly her plans are.”

“You mean as far as sabotaging me and sending me to limbo?”

“Precisely.”

“Hold on! I was joking. Would she really do that?”

“I wouldn’t put it past her. But, she has some sense of justice. If she sees you as an innocent undeserving of a harsh fate, I don't believe her issues with Master alone will be enough for her to orchestrate sending you to limbo.”

Morrigan clicked her teeth. “On the other hand... if she thinks I'm a piece of shit?"

"Then she'll do what she can to extract what she believes to be justice."

"Damn! What kind of god complex is this chick on?”

“Indeed. It has always been a point of contention in our relationship. She values her own judgment far too much.”

A knock on the door came with Grant calling, “Morrigan? You okay in there?”

“Yeah, just a second!” She called back.

“You may go,” Noir said. “I’ll update you more when we meet tonight.”

“Oh yeah, one more thing. There’s another hollow I know of that I want to take care of, but I want to bring a human along to watch.”

His eyes narrowed at her. “Excuse me?”

“She’s my new friend. She can see ghosts, so it should be fine. We’ll talk about it later!” Morrigan said, flushing the toilet even though it hadn’t been used.

“Morrigan! Wait a moment!” he said with irritation in his voice, but she ignored him as she pretended to wash her hands and then met Grant in the hall.

Grant raised an eyebrow at her. “Something funny?” he asked, and she just then realized she was smiling. Something about getting under Noir’s skin was just too satisfying for her. It could make her smile even if the whole world was going to hell.

“It’s nothing,” Morrigan said, then took a deep breath as her thoughts returned to her mother.

Grant nodded, taking in her mood. “Alright lets go. It’s this room right over here.” He gestured toward the door marked 161, giving Morrigan a moment to steel herself for the encounter. As she approached, her hand trembled slightly, betraying the nerves that knotted her stomach. She took a deep breath, then with a soft push the door creaked open, revealing the dimly lit room where her mother lay. Saffron sat in a chair with a clipboard at her bedside.

She looked frail, the stark white of the hospital sheets making her complexion seem more pallid. Tubes and wires trailed from her arms, linking her to a beeping machine. Seeing Morrigan, there was a bit of warmth mixed with shock.

"Morrigan..." Anna's voice was weak, but she pushed herself to sit up straighter. Morrigan felt guilty seeing her like this; she couldn’t bring herself to meet her eyes.

"Hey, mom,” Morrigan said, trying to force a smile as her gaze remained low. “I’m sorry I’ve been gone…”

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