“She did it, not knowing what she’d get. Does he bring his bag home at night usually?” she asks.
“Yeah. It’s always on the table in the front hall or in his office. But wait, stop. I don’t understand. Why would she do that?”
“Let’s just say, we have found Lucas to be...off? Suspicious. I thought something was going on myself,” she says.
I feel a flood of gratitude. She was trying to save me even before I knew it.
“I actually clipped a camera to your front tree to see what he was up to,” she says, and a sudden laugh escapes me as I cover my mouth. I’m just so shocked someone was looking out for me. Someone cares that this has happened. But just as quickly, my eyes fill with grateful tears, and I blink them back.
“I can’t believe that,” I say, smiling a genuine smile for the first time in as long as I can remember.
“So if you can, trust her, because I trust her with my life, and I know you can. We can try to get the recorder. She says it’s voice-activated, so it doesn’t just run all the time. It recorded the audio whenever you spoke. Do you think, with one hundred and ninety-two hours of speaking, we’ll hear what we need, what you’ve described?” she asks, pouring another glass of wine. She’s thought this through in such a short time, and I’m trying to keep up.
“But why does that matter? I thought we were going to get me and Avery as far away as possible?” I ask, feeling very uneasy that the plan seems to be changing.
“Yes. And we will, but what if we don’t have to?” she asks.
“We do have to! What do you mean?” I begin to panic. “Oh, my God, I can’t—This has to work. I have to go. I thought you—”
“Honey, no. I’m sorry. This isn’t meant to scare you. I will help you. I absolutely promise. All I mean is, you say it’s his word against yours, and his status, all of that. If there is concrete proof of abuse, he can go away, and you don’t have to run and look over your shoulder the rest of your life. That recording will back you up,” she says, putting her glass down and shifting toward me as she speaks.
I just want her to drive me to the airport, but I have no documents. I want her to drive me at least five states away, but I have no money or job or ID. I mean, I need her. I have to listen.
“What if he just gets a slap on the wrist and gets out and finds me?” I say, smoothing Avery’s thin wisps of baby hair behind her ears nervously.
“Well, think about it. He’ll at least be arrested. It will at least buy time to get you back to the UK, and probably an order for your documents to be searched for...legal help to get your stuff sorted out. Plus, if they find it to be true, that he’s kept you there, that he’s stolen your identity from you...I think it will be more than a slap on the wrist. I get that you need the proof and not just your word, but I mean, with that proof, you’re so much safer. Long term.” She’s so sure and emphatic, I want to trust her.
But Paige. I just can’t bear having her involved. It’s too much. But I find that I really have little choice. What she says makes sense. I’ll need a little time to put together a plan. Getting away is even harder now that I’m being looked for.
“You’re absolutely positive that Paige won’t tell anyone? At all. You’re sure it’s safe,” I plead.
“Paige can keep a secret like you wouldn’t believe.”
“Okay,” I say. And I want to say a thousand more timesAre we safe? Are you sure? Please let us be safe. I can’t take any more.But this is where I am now, and I have to trust these women. They’re all I have.
“She’s in the house. But don’t worry. I have not told her you’re here. She came over for another...issue, and there is nothing I can do about that right this minute, so let’s figure out how to keep you safe. That’s what I can do,” she says, and I nod.
When Cora goes inside to talk to Paige, they are a long time. I know it’s a lot to explain, and the thought of Cora being wrong about her and this blowing up makes me ill. I go to the sink and think I’ll throw up, but I don’t. I just lean over it and run the cold water and press it to my cheeks. He’s only a couple houses away. He’s so close, I hear my blood pumping between my ears. I feel as caged as ever.
When they come through the door, the sound of it clicking open again makes me jump. Paige looks like she’s seen a ghost upon looking at me.
“Hi,” she says with a reserved wave. She stays across the room, giving me my space, probably, but she acts as though she’s talking to an unstable person or a rabid dog—someone who could attack without warning. I don’t know how Cora told it, or if she added that I’m leery of letting Paige get involved.
“Hi,” I say, moving back down to Avery, a natural instinct to protect her. I have barely spoken to anyone in so long until very recently, and it feels so foreign to be in the company of anyone but Lucas.
“Georgia, I can’t...” Paige starts to say but doesn’t seem to have the words. Cora steps in.
“Her name is Nicola.”
“Jesus,” Paige says, understanding the implication. “What a—what a fucking monster that guy is... I’m so sorry we didn’t know what was happening,” she says. “I don’t even—”
But I interrupt her. “You can’t tell anyone I’m here,” I say, needing to hear it, feeling overwhelmed with how dangerous this is.
“No. God. Of course not. We’re gonna take that son of a bitch down,” Paige says.
“How? Because I’m sorry, I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but I don’t think you understand. I know about this recorder thing, but there’s no way to get it. I think we should forget that, and I should just go.”
“Paige says she’s willing to...break in,” Cora says.
