“Erik Fengdahl,” said Andrew. “You have the right to remain silent.”
Officer Park knelt and handcuffed Eric while he spewed venom and cursed in my direction. I tuned him out. I refused to listen to any more of his hateful words.
Andrew read him his Miranda Rights while a third car screeched to a halt in the street. A man and a woman, both wearing blue windbreakers with FBI in yellow lettering on the back, approached the house.
From the other direction, Christopher drove up, parking on the wrong side of the street in his haste. He sprinted past the police, the FBI, and Eric in handcuffs and bounded up the stairs, pulling me into his arms. He squeezed me hard, then checked me over to make sure I was unhurt. Besides the cast from before, I was fine.
My voice was calm. “He’s been staying here, in my empty house. He came up behind me, but I kicked the shit out of him and called the cops.”
Christopher took my face in his hands and kissed me, the softest, sweetest kiss I could imagine. His thumb stroked the side of my face and turned me to jelly.
“Remind me not to piss you off,” he said with a wink.
My grin matched his.
He wrapped his arm around me and said, “Let’s go home.”
Chapter 29
Christopher and I couldn’t leave the scene until I’d given my statement and had a quick once-over from a paramedic. It wasn’t long before I locked the townhouse. They’d taken photos and collected prints to prove Eric had been staying there and I gave Andrew my key in case they needed anything else. I was glad to leave this place for what I hoped was the last time.
“How did it go with Brandon after I left?”
“He was confused and upset,” said Christopher, “But in time, he’ll understand. He asked for us to give him space, but he let me hug him and said he’d watch the video. We found it just before I left. Andrew was on his way to get the other doses when he was diverted to your townhouse. I was in my car when he texted me.”
“Did Brandon say how much space or for how long?”
Christopher shook his head.
He seemed disappointed in the outcome.
“At least Brandon is himself again,” I said. “He has all the shared memories you two built your whole lives. He’ll come around.”
“I watched the beginning of the video.” He looked shocked to hear how different he sounded. His first words were, “That can’t be me.”
“Did you need to convince him?”
“Na, he was wearing the same clothes. He recorded it last night before he injected himself and went to sleep.”
. . .
On Sunday, Christopher and I went for dinner at Dad’s. Andrew and Meghan attended as well. Dad planned the menu in our honor, as it was our first time we’d gone for dinner since we’d gotten engaged. It was also the first time the family had come together since Thanksgiving. I was glad I’d made up with my family in chunks before this, or it would have been too much.
After a delicious dinner of roast beef, potatoes and gravy, and roasted vegetables, we relaxed around the table for a while, enjoying calm family time.
Meghan looked at me several times as though she had something to say. I waited for her to make the first move.
Finally, she blurted, “Elizabeth, can I talk to you about something in private?”
I was curious about what she wanted to talk to me about and followed her upstairs to her old bedroom. It held the outdated treasures of her childhood. Her bookcase contained a pink unicorn statue that she’d painted in fourth grade and half a dozen framed pictures of the family. She picked up one of all four of us. I had left none on display that included our mother when I’d tried to erase her from our past.
In the photo, Meghan was seven, and I was nine. She wore a striped bathing suit, mirrored sunglasses, and a huge grin, but it was mom that drew my eyes like a magnet. Meghan looked so much like mom did back then. My eyes misted over. She’d died when she was only thirty-five, the age I’d been before my wish. Not much older than we were now. In the picture, I held my mom’s hand and was trying to pull away from her with an uncooperative scowl.
“What happened that evening? When mom died, I was just a kid, and they explained nothing. You were different from that point on. More reserved. Quieter. You preferred to read instead of playing, even if you were only ten. Sometimes it seemed like I lost you both in that accident.”
I hadn’t known Meghan had noticed that I’d changed. I’d assumed she was too young to remember how I’d been before.
“Mom and I had a secret.” The familiar lump grew in my throat as my voice tried to quit, but I pushed past the feeling.
