Tonight, Tim and I are celebrating. I got the job at the primary care practice, and the salary and benefits are amazing, not to mention it’s much closer and much less scary than the prison. The interview went so well—they apologized for not responding to my first request for an interview when I was sending my resume all over town—apparently, some disgruntled patient had called and warned them about me. I felt terrible that a patient disliked me enough to do that, but I tried to put it out of my head. At least I have the job now.

So I handed in my notice at Raker Penitentiary, and even though Dorothy made a bit of a fuss about it, when I pointed out the fact that I hadn’t once met the physician supposed to be supervising me, she quickly changed her tune and wished me luck at my new position.

I won’t have to deal with Dorothy or Marcus Hunt ever again. I won’t have to see Shane ever again. Thank God.

Margie comes over to babysit for Josh so that Tim and I can have a night alone. Tim got it in his head that he wanted to cook dinner for me, so right now, I’m heading down the block to his house. I’d love to spend the night there, but it’s not fair to ask that of Margie, so the two of us will go back to my house at the end of the night.

As I press my finger against the doorbell, a random thought floats into my head: I wonder if Kelli Underwood ever came over here. I’m certain Tim told me the two of them had a couple of dates, so it’s not impossible he might have invited her over. She might have stood in this very spot, ringing the doorbell.

She’s still missing. It’s been a week now. I’ve been checking the news daily for updates, and the tone of the stories is sounding less and less optimistic. By now, if she were able to, she would have contacted somebody. The longer somebody is missing, the less chance there is of them turning up alive and well.

I tried to bring it up last night with Tim, and he changed the subject. I suppose I don’t blame him. He seems uncomfortable talking about his exes—as do I.

Tim opens the door to the house, wearing a T-shirt and jeans. His whole face lights up when he sees me at the door, the way it always does. You would think now that we’ve been dating for over two months, he wouldn’t always look so excited to see me. But he does. It feels like fate that we ended up together after all these years.

“Brooke!” he says. “Get in here… it’s cold!”