“I guess,” he says. “But I’m not too sure Paxton would approve of me arresting people. He might take my gun away.”

“Just like he took mine,” I say. This time my tone is whatever the opposite of flirtatious is…angry? Turned off? It is still a sore subject with me even though I have been without a weapon for nearly three months.

I’ll never forget the feeling I had that day. The mixed emotions were like being on a roller coaster. First, the elation I felt at finding Crestwood nearly overwhelmed me. I had been through so much crap it was ridiculous. I know my story can’t be much different from a lot of people’s, and there are plenty of others with a worse history than mine, but it didn’t matter. Seeing the town felt like the best thing that had ever happened to me.

The guards let me in, but then they took my gun and knife away from me, and then frisked me. Gabe had been part of the welcoming committee and I remember hating him for it, but now I know he was just following the rules of Crestwood. Then there was the meeting with Paxton, Crestwood’s leader. You talk about a guy with an authority complex. I had already been questioned by the guards, but Paxton came in with some questions of his own.

I had been in some holding cell for the better part of the day. I didn’t complain, though. I was safe. Or at least I felt safe. There was a mirror on the wall across from me. My long, dark hair was in tangles, and my skin looked dark from being out in the sun so much. My green eyes looked paler than they had three years ago. Maybe that was because of the endless nights where I did nothing but cry for the first year. I used to think that my nose was too long and pointy, but such a dumb observation didn’t matter to me anymore. What struck me the most was how skinny I looked. My skin clung to my bones so tightly a small cut might have split me wide open. Just from seeing my reflection, I couldn’t imagine going back out into the world. My biggest fear was that someone was going to tell me that I couldn’t stay, and when Paxton finally came into the room, I just knew this would be the news.

He sat across from me with a folder and pen in his hands. He had a nicely trimmed, black beard and dark hair. I remember thinking he was so tall that he had probably not encountered too many people that were bigger than him. He wore a flannel shirt and jeans, so I hoped this meant he wouldn’t be a complete jerk.