“What am I getting at?”

Caitlin sighed. “I didn’t have anyone in my corner. I mean, it’s totally different with Lakshmi. She didn’t get attacked—her friend did. She’s got Doris Chapman and her Chapter friends. Plus, she didn’t run away. And I could have had someone in my corner. My dad, Mary, other friends—”

“But you didn’t.”

Caitlin pushed her greasy plate to the side. “It’s not just for Lakshmi.”

“For who then?”

“For Angela Chapman. For Paige Lauffer. For the seventeen percent, or however many girls there are who have to deal with shit like this and are too scared to ask for help.”

“That’s a lot of weight to carry.”

“You asked. Is that what you thought I’d say?”

“Yep, those exact words. Every one of them. I’m kind of a genius.”

“Oh, I knew that the second you told me.” Caitlin waved at Charlese, got a smile and a right-with-you finger.

Scott followed her action. “Please tell me you’re ordering more bacon.”

“Better.” She pulled the cardboard tent over, awaited the woman’s return.

He tried once more. “It’d be okay if you were helping Lakshmi for yourself.”

“For me?”

“Helping Lakshmi find Angela Chapman might be a tangible way to deal with what happened to you twenty years ago. That’s not evading, Caitlin. That’s empowering.”

“You’re damned right it’s empowering,” she said, pointing to the mint Oreo milkshake in advance of Charlese’s return. “This one, please. I’m celebrating.”

Charlese got the point without closing the distance.

“Excellent choice,” Scott said. “What about the rest of the weekend? Going to the Little Five Hundred?”

“They ride bikes in the rain?”

He nodded. “I believe so. Should cut down on the drunks in the stands. Could be fun.”

“No way,” Caitlin said. “I lived that one too. I’ll start with a run, see where that takes me.”

An hour later, her feet took her through the rain-soaked campus, her mind free, clear, and content, until in her third mile she passed a kiosk topped with a blue light. She stopped and stretched, examining the slender gray tower stenciled with the word “EMERGENCY” and its call box below. Not only could a student report an injury or crime, but the built-in camera would record the whole thing.

She shook her head and exhaled. Too bad Chapman hadn’t been on campus when she disappeared.

Another exhale brought another thought.

Too bad you weren’t either.

She wiped a mix of sweat and rain from her brow, and the brief flashes of regret from her mind, and ran back to Mary’s cottage.

Rather than track mud in, she peeled off her shoes and wet running gear and piled them near her bag, noticing the protruding corner of her assault report that she still hadn’t faced.

Empowering, Scott had said. Did she feel empowered enough to try again?