“Lionel’s lawyer informed the board of your estranged relationship, that you haven't seen him since you were thirteen and never wrote to him. They concluded that there may have been…” He huffs, struggling to say the words. “That… there may have been ulterior motives behind your letter. They found it suspicious you never spoke a single word of what you witnessed before, so they questioned why you’re speaking up now.”
A flash of fury turns my vision red.
“So, what? They think I’m just a bitter daughter who turned on her father and made up lies to punish him?” I spit, my voice cracking.
“Sweetheart—”
“They’re releasing a fucking serial killer into society, and I just dug my own fucking grave, Barry!” I shout, barely getting the words out before a sob bubbles from my throat.
Squeezing my eyes tight, I slap my hand over my mouth, violently trembling as I attempt to calm myself.
“Listen, honey, I know you took a big risk, and it didn’t pay off,” Barry begins gently. “But he doesn’t know where you are, and he can’t leave the state without approval. If the fucker dares to try, he'll be back in prison before his toe can cross state lines.”
When has Lionel ever given a fuck aboutapproval? Or following the law? He’s a goddamn serial killer, and a good one at that. If he crosses state lines, he won't be stupid enough to get caught.
I don’t bother voicing that aloud, though.
Whether Barry admits it or not, he already knows that.
“So, it’s decided then,” I state plainly. “He’s actually getting out.”
After the hearing, the board said they needed to consider additional information—whateverthatfucking means—and they’d submit a decision within one hundred twenty days.
This entire past month, I’ve been begging the universe to do me a solid for once in my life and let them denyit.
Obviously, the universe and I have serious beef with one another.
“It’s decided,” Barry confirms solemnly.
“Did they set a date for his release?”
He sighs. “February 5th.”
Three weeks.
Three fucking weeks from now, Lionel D’Amour will be a free citizen again.
Free.
My hand flies to the pendant dangling around my neck, and I nervously slide it back and forth along the gold chain. It’s a North Star, gifted to me by Barry on my fifteenth birthday.
“You’re my North Star. No matter where you are, I will always find you.”
I’ve held tight to those words, just as I do now as the threat of Lionel coming to find me becomes very fucking real.
“Has it made the news yet?” I ask, sniffling and releasing the pendant to wipe away the snot gathering at the tip of my nose with the back of my hand.
“No, not yet. From what I’m being told, they're treating his case very differently and keeping his release private. Usually, the CDCR releases parole decisions on their website weekly, but they're holding off until the following week of his release. Since the news of his parole hearing broke, the media has become out of hand, and Lionel’s lawyer claims there’s some group out there who believe he’s the Locksmith and have made threats to his life should the board approve his parole, so they’re taking extra precautions. Not to mention his case being very high profile, so it’s guaranteed to incite chaos on prison grounds between the media and public to witness him getting out.”
Of course he gets special treatment.
I’m not even surprised.
“And Dread?” I ask, my voice faint. “If you know, then he probably knows now, too, right?”
“He will soon. I have a contact at the prison who let me know ahead of time, and I called you the moment I found out. Victim Services will mail out a letter to him and his attorney within the week.”
I hang my head as the urge to vomit strengthens.
