But tonight, Jack sat in the parking lot of the North Heron Sheriff's Office and let himself feel it. The weight of the badge in his jacket pocket. The solid ground beneath his wheels. The knowledge that after years of wandering, he'd finally come home.
15
The final bell had rung, and her ninth graders fled the room, feeling the excitement of the upcoming weekend. In truth, the same uplifting emotion rushed through Rachel.
She hadn’t determined who in the class had written the worrying notes for the poetry lesson, but her gaze had continually gone back to Robbie, whose usual jokes were missing, and Carson, whose quiet demeanor seemed even more quiet.
As the students left, she was surprised to see Carson among the last to go. “Hope you have a good weekend, Carson,” she called out, glad to see him smile.
“Thanks, Ms. Ayers,” he replied. “My brother came home, so it’ll be nice to spend time with him this weekend.”
She blinked, aware her smile slipped. “Oh… I didn’t know… yeah, well, I’m glad. I’m sure it will be good to… um… have him around.”
Carson nodded, then walked out, leaving Rachel sitting at her desk, her heart pounding and her stomach clenching. Jack’s home? And didn’t tell me?
The sudden desire to cry hit her, but she pushed it down as she collected her things, no longer excited about the weekend. By the time she left her classroom, most of the students had already cleared out of the building. Rachel walked down the main hallway, her arms full of her bag filled with essays she'd collected from her last period class. The usual after-school quiet had settled over the building, signaling the particular stillness that came when hundreds of teenage voices suddenly went silent.
The news that Jack was already on the Shore and hadn’t told her settled into an ache in her chest. Suddenly, voices carried down the corridor, and Rachel slowed her steps. One male, one female. Harsh and angry. She couldn't make out the words yet, but the tone was unmistakable.
She quickened her pace, rounding the corner near the senior lockers. She sucked in a gasp when she saw who was arguing, the scene not aligning with what she knew about the participants.
Terrance Bogdin, a senior on the wrestling team, had his girlfriend’s back against the lockers. He was one of Rachel’s English honor students, always polite and a gentleman, and she saw him and his girlfriend, Lisa, around the school walking hand in hand.
Now, his hand was wrapped around her wrist, holding it tightly against the metal. The girl's face was streaked with tears, her free hand pressed against his chest like she was trying to create distance but didn't have the strength.
“I saw him, Lisa!” Terrance's voice was low and vicious. “Don't lie to me. He was all over you at lunch.”
“He wasn't! Terrance, please, you're hurting me—” Lisa's voice broke on a sob.
Rachel's instincts kicked in immediately.
“Terrance!” Rachel's sharp and commanding voice cut across the space between them. “Let her go. Now.”
His head snapped toward her, his eyes wild. For a second, Rachel saw something dangerous flicker across his face. Maybe anger, mixed with frustration, and definitely something dark. But then recognition settled in, and his expression shifted.
He dropped Lisa's wrist like it had burned him and stepped back, his hands coming up in a placating gesture.
“Ms. Ayers, I—” He stopped, his jaw working. “I'm sorry. We were just talking.”
“That wasn't talking.” Rachel kept her voice steady and authoritative. She moved closer, positioning herself between Terrance and Lisa. “Lisa, are you okay?”
Lisa nodded quickly, too quickly, wiping at her face with shaking hands. “I'm fine. We're fine. It was just a misunderstanding.”
Rachel didn't take her eyes off Terrance. He stood there, chest heaving slightly, his hands still raised like he was trying to prove he wasn't a threat. But Rachel could see the tension in his shoulders and the way his fingers curled into fists and then released, over and over.
“Terrance, you need to go,” Rachel said firmly. “Don't you have wrestling practice?”
“Yeah.” His voice came out rough. “Yeah, I do. Ms. Ayers, I'm sorry. I didn't mean… I wouldn't—” He looked at Lisa, something like desperation crossing his face. “Lisa, I'm sorry. I just got mad. You know I wouldn't hurt you.”
Lisa's lip trembled, but she nodded. “I know.”
Terrance backed away another step, then turned and walked quickly down the hallway. Rachel watched him go, noting the stiffness in his gait and the way he shoved through the double doors at the end of the corridor with more force than necessary.
When he was gone, Rachel turned her full attention to Lisa. The girl had slumped back against the locker, her arms wrapped around herself. She was pretty with long blond hair and delicate features, but right now, she looked small and scared and young.
“Lisa,” Rachel said gently. “Come with me to my classroom. Let's talk.”
“I'm okay, really?—”
