“It’s fine.” I grab her wrists. She tries to wiggle away. I don’t let her. I pull her in, and I hug her tightly. She stops resisting. “We’ll go to the police together. We’ll tell them everything you’ve found. I won’t let anything happen to you.” I pull out of the hug and look her in the eyes trying to reassure her. Leaning in, I kiss her. It’s a kiss of comfort, at least I think it is, at least I hope she knows it is. I kiss her again and again until she stops crying.

When she’s calmed down, I think that I have helped until a flash of anger spreads across her face.

She pushes me hard. I stumble back and catch myself before I fall to the ground. “Get out! You have to leave!”

“Please, Rebecca. Let me help you.”

“You can’t help me. Get the fuck out of my house.”

I put my hands up and back out slowly. It’s not anger on her face. It’s fear. She’s scared, and I don’t know if it’s me she’s afraid of or someone else. She’s right. I can’t help her. I can’t even help myself.

Before I can even make it to the front door, I see the strobing of red and blue lights across the front window. “Did you call the police!?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was you.” Tears stream down her face.

“Who did you think—” but I’m cut off as a loud pounding starts at the door.

“Police department! All parties come out of the house with your hands up!”

I open the front door slowly, one hand in the air while the other turns the knob. Before I can open it all the way and raise my other hand, I am seized by the shirt collar and thrown to the ground outside. A knee is pressed into the small of my back, and a thick pair of hands grab my wrists and places me in handcuffs. As I’m pulled to my feet and dragged to the squad car, my eyes catch the faint glimpse of a shadow moving in the bushes behind Rebecca’s house. I look away before it registers in my mind and I snap back to see it again, but it’s gone. With the lights flashing in my eyes and no water for two days, I can only guess the things I might be seeing.

I surrender without a fight and take my place in the back seat, ready for my ride back to the station. I look forward out the front window of the car, losing my thoughts in the spiraling lights and begin to pass out. At least this part I do deserve.

57. Sarah Morgan

57

Sarah Morgan

Unless Matthew pulls through for me, I’m fucked.