I don’t move. Don’t reach for my keys. This has to be her decision.
She lifts her gaze to me. There’s fear there, yeah, but there’s resolve too. A thin, bright line of it.
“Will you take me? To the police station, I mean.”
“Yeah,” I say instantly. “Whenever you’re ready.”
She nods once, decisive now. Pushes the chair back and stands.
“Okay,” she says. “Let’s go.”
I grab my keys then, heart thudding harder than I want to admit.
Caleb appears in the doorway. Already dressed. Already steady. The man is built for emotional scaffolding.
“You want company?” he asks her.
She hesitates. “Silas is good. I know there’s always a lot to do here too.”
Caleb studies her face, then looks at me.
That look says:This is not a joke day.
I nod once.
“I’ll be here,” Caleb tells her. “Call if you need anything.”
She nods, eyes softening. “I will.”
And just like that, she’s trusting us with something fragile.
No pressure or anything.
The drive into town is quiet.
I keep the radio off because noise would be wrong. Her leg bounces, foot tapping in uneven beats like her body’s trying to escape without her permission.
I don’t fill the silence.
Halfway down the road, she says, “What if he’s still in town?”
My hands tighten on the wheel.
“He won’t be,” I say. “And if he is, we leave.”
She nods, but her jaw stays locked.
“Delaney,” I add gently, “you don’t owe him bravery. You don’t owe anyone composure.”
Her eyes flick to me, then away. “I just don’t want to be stupid again.”
I don’t sayyou weren’t stupid, because people who’ve been manipulated never believe that right away.
Instead, I say, “You’re here. You’re doing this. That’s not stupid.”
She swallows.
The police station comes into view. Small, unassuming, trying very hard not to scare anyone.
