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“I need do this by myself,” I say. He shrugs like he doesn't care, but I can tell that it hurts him that I don’t want him in there.

I'm led into a room where they ask me to tell them exactly what happened. It's a brief summary because thankfully not much did happen, but I make sure to tell them everything.

“There was another incident three months ago,” I add softly.

She glances at me, nodding for me to continue.

“I was leaving the library to walk home late one afternoon when he jumped out from behind the side of the building.” I pause, frowning as I remember. “His, uh, his zipper wasn't up, and when I glanced down, I saw his penis poking out through his pants. He kept smiling at me.” I flush, embarrassed that I dismissed it so quickly as nothing. I never thought it would escalate to this.

“Is that all that happened?” she asks.

I nod. “I looked away and quickly left. He never bothered me again. I caught him watching me sometimes, like, when I was studying in the library a couple of weeks ago, but he never physically bothered me. I thought he was harmless,” I mumble.

I shudder, all those times he was watching me…God knows what he's been fantasizing about. I’m just relieved that my father was there to stop him before anything actually happened.

She tells me that I’m free to go. I thank her and walk back out into the waiting area. I’m surprised to see Dad is still sitting there because I’d half expected to be catching a cab home after what we’d been through over the last few days.

“You waited,” I said, pointing out the obvious.

“After what happened to you? Of course, I did,” he mutters. He seems angry that I’d suggest he wouldn’t. In hindsight, it was a pretty stupid thing to think. As if he’d leave me there to get home alone after what happened. “Come on. I'll take you home.”

I follow him out to his car and get in, clicking my seatbelt into the lock. It’s nearly eleven, and while I’m exhausted, I don’t think I’ll be sleeping for a while. I just keep thinking…what if Dad hadn’t turned up when he did? How far would Nathan have gone? I shudder, pushing it out of my mind. I’m okay, and that’s the main thing. I’ll drive myself crazy if I focus on the what ifs and the maybes.

I turn to Dad, a question burning in my mind.

“How did you know I was there?” I ask, frowning. Dad furrows his brow, his grip on the wheel tightening.

“I saw you go in there with Nick,” he mutters.

“At six?” I ask. He nods, color creeping into his cheeks.

“It’s irrational, but I wanted to make sure you were okay, so I waited until you left. I saw him leave, but not you. Then, when you finally did come out, it was dark, and I wanted to make sure you got home okay.”

“Why?” I ask softly. My heart races. I can’t believe he would sit there for that long to wait for me.

“Because you’re my daughter,” he finally growls. “I’ll always worry about you, Anna.” He stares at the road for a long time before facing me. “When you were little, I’d sometimes sit out the front of school and just wait for you, because I was afraid something would happen to you.”

“Really?” I whisper. This was the first I’d heard of this.

He nods. “I don’t know if it’s a single parent thing…I don’t know if Nick feels the same about his kids…” He stops. I glance out the window to avoid where I know this conversation is heading.

Neither of us say anything after that.We pull into the driveway and Dad parks the car in the garage. I get out and walk up to the front door. I glance over at Nick’s window, then meet Dad’s gaze. I frown and look away, embarrassed that he caught me mid-thought.

He sighs and unlocks the door, then stalks inside and down to his room, slamming the door shut behind him. The sound echoes through me, making me jump. I quickly go inside, too, then lock the doors. Five minutes later, I’m checking again that I locked them. I know I’m just anxious over what happened, but every tiny noise has me jumping.

I wish Nick was here. Then I remember he doesn’t know.

Fuck.

It’s been at least another two hours since I told him I was leaving the theatre. I glance down the hallway to check that Dad’s door is still closed, then I pull out my phone. There’s a heap of missed calls and messages from Nick.

“I was getting worried about you,” he chuckles when he finally answers my call. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just got home.” I pause and rub my head, knowing he’s going to overreact when I tell him. “Please don’t freak out, but I just got back from the police station.”

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