“Of course, I’ll have an officer come by with a saliva kit shortly.” Detective Harlan closes his notebook, folding his hands over it. “Isobel, I need you to understand this is a long shot. But I promise I’ll do my best to find him for you. I’ll put a rush on it in the lab.”
“Thank you.” I force a smile.
What’s one more swab?
“Of course.” He opens his notebook again, steadying his pen. “Can you take me through what happened to you?”
The door swingsopen with such a rush it hits the wall.
“Isobel!”
I flip the blanket off my head and turn. Maeve barrels toward me, her hair wild, eyes glassy with panic. She stops next to my bed, mouth agape, as her eyes travel over me.
“Oh my…” she whispers. Her hand trembles as she brings it up to her mouth. “Iz…” Her eyes well.
I reach for her, fists clinging to her sleeves and pull her to me. Maeve wraps her arms around me before I can say a word. Her arms tighten as if she lets go I’ll disintegrate into dust and float away on the wind.
“Isobel, honey, are you alright?” Maeve’s mom rushes in, setting her purse down in the seat next to my bed.
“Hi, Brenda, I’m okay.” I melt into her as she wraps her arms around me.
“When they called, Maeve and I…” She pulls back, her eyes soft and warm as she runs a hand down the side of my face. “I’m so sorry, honey.”
I shake my head, taking a shaky breath. “No, please don’t apologize. There’s nothing you need to be sorry for.”
Brenda takes a seat as Maeve gets comfortable on the bed.
“What happened?” Maeve takes my hand.
I take a deep breath and give them the highlights of the night. I watch as Brenda’s face pales, while Maeve’sfills with anger.
“You’re coming to stay with us when you’re discharged. I’m not taking no for an answer.” Maeve’s eyes bore into me. “That fucking asshole! I can’t believe he touched you! What a sick perv!”
“Language, Maeve,” Brenda scolds, but there’s no weight behind it.
Maeve rolls her eyes. “Whatever, Mom. You know it’s true. I hope they lock him up and throw the key somewhere in the ocean.”
I chuckle. “You and me both.”
4 ASHTHORNE
My legs dangle off my car seat. The world outside is a blur of headlights and streetlamps. The radio hums out soft melodies. Mama is whispering to herself.
“Don’t look behind us.” Her knuckles are white on the wheel.
We’ve been driving for what feels like forever. The car smells like coffee, smoke, and cherry lip gloss.
“Are we there yet?”
Her gaze meets mine in the mirror, her eyes wild and tired.
“Not yet, baby. Soon. Take a nap, then by the time you wake up, we’ll be there.”
“Okay, Mama.”
The next time I wake up, I’m on a bed. Mama is pacing the room, looking out of the blinds. The motel room is cold and smells.
“What’s wrong, Mama?” I sit up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
