Then she hugged me, and this time she didn’t let go for a long time.
“I’m so tired,” she whispered.
“Then sleep.”
“What if I can’t?”
“Then I’ll sit with you.”
She looked up at me, her face raw and young and afraid.
“What if he comes back?”
“He won’t.”
“But what if—”
“Then I’ll be here,” I said. “And so will Thomas. And so will Diane. And so will every officer in this city who knows your name now.”
Emily nodded, but her hands were shaking again.
I walked her to the guest room.
I helped her out of the cream dress and into one of my old T-shirts.
I tucked her into bed like she was eight years old.
“Mom?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner.”
“You couldn’t have known.”
“I should have.”
She reached for my hand.
“He was really good at hiding it.”
“I know.”
“And I was really good at pretending.”
“I know that too.”
She closed her eyes.
“I don’t know how to stop being scared.”
“You don’t have to stop tonight,” I said. “You just have to rest.”
She fell asleep holding my hand.
I stayed until her breathing evened out.
Then I went to the living room, where Thomas and Diane were waiting.
“She asleep?” Thomas asked.
“Finally.”
Diane poured me a glass of wine I didn’t ask for and absolutely needed.
“What happens now?” she asked.
“Now we make sure he never gets near her again.”
“And if he tries?”
“He won’t,” Thomas said darkly. “Not if he’s smart.”
I looked at my brother.
“You thinking about doing something stupid?”
“I’m thinking about doing something necessary.”
“Thomas—”
“He put a gun on my niece, Linda.”
“I know.”
“In your house.”
“I know.”
“And you want me to just let the cops handle it?”
“Yes,” I said firmly. “Because that’s what Emily needs. She doesn’t need you in jail. She needs you here.”
Thomas looked away, his jaw tight.
But he nodded.
