“I couldn’t.”
I handed her the box.
“Good.”
We were loading the last bag into the car when Emily’s phone buzzed.
She froze.
“It’s him,” she whispered.
“How?”
“I don’t know. They took his phone.”
Officer Mendez held out her hand. “Let me see.”
Emily handed it over, her hands shaking.
The text was from an unknown number.
You really think this is over?
Officer Mendez’s jaw tightened.
“He’s using someone else’s phone. I’ll have this tracked. In the meantime, block the number. Don’t respond. Don’t engage.”
“He’s not going to stop,” Emily said.
“Yes he is,” Officer Mendez said firmly. “Because we’re not going to let him.”
That night, Emily couldn’t eat.
She sat at the table and pushed food around her plate and finally gave up.
“I keep thinking he’s going to show up,” she said.
“He’s in jail.”
“But what if he gets out?”
“He won’t.”
“But what if—”
“Emily,” I said, and my voice came out harder than I meant. “What if he doesn’t? What if he stays in jail, and you spend the rest of your life waiting for him to show up, and he never does?”
She stared at me.
“What if you get to be safe?” I said. “What if you get to go back to school, and see Madison, and live your life without looking over your shoulder? What if this is actually over?”
Emily’s eyes filled.
“I don’t know how to believe that.”
“Then don’t,” I said. “Not yet. Just eat dinner. Just sleep. Just get through today. Tomorrow you can worry about tomorrow.”
She nodded slowly.
