A brittle creak breaks through the eerie silence when I push the bathroom door all the way open, but other than that, it’s eerily quiet. Not even the thud of my pulse can be heard. With the shower curtain drawn all the way back, the vanity void of any storage underneath, and the door flush to the wall, a normal person would think the bathroom is empty.
I know that isn’t the case. Melody’s dad taught us to hide where no one would think to look—in plain sight but also hidden. The simpler the hiding spot, the less likely you’ll be found, and we set up Melody’s dorm to ensure she had numerous places to hide, such as the shower curtain that’s so long, even when it’s pulled over the tub, the massive bends in the thick material could conceal a body. It’s also three inches longer than needed.
Before peeling open the almost black shower curtain, I stomp down another three times to assure her it’s me. A heavy sigh escapes my mouth when the opening of the curtain reveals a huddled Melody hiding in the middle of it.
My first thought is to kiss her until her mouth soothes the panic burning me alive, but instead, I rest my forehead against hers and count to ten, bringing both our heart rates back to a safe, non-cardiac level before signing, “Who scared who?”
20
BRANDON
“W hat do you mean he’ll most likely get off with a misdemeanor for evading police? He broke into my girlfriend’s dormitory. Who knows what he would have done to her if we didn’t arrive when we did.”
Grayson, the blond FBI agent I met Friday night, sighs down the line like his week has been as long as mine. “Conspiracy to commit a crime is an offense if the DA believes there’s sufficient evidence to corroborate the claim. The ADA doesn’t believe that’s the case this time around. He doesn’t believe Crombie targeted Melody with the intent to harm her.”
“You know that’s a lie, Grayson. Who flees a scene unless they were planning to do something wrong?”
I rake my fingers through my hair, giving it an extra tug for good measure. I’m so fucking frustrated because no matter how many times I spell out the facts, no one listens to me. I’m just a kid who doesn’t know what he’s talking about. My father said that exact thing last week when the deans at Browns and Dartmore gave Melody and me permission to commence summer break early. I didn’t tell them what had happened. I just shoved the report of Melody’s dorm fire under their noses.
My annoyance gets a massive boost when Grayson says, “The ADA doesn’t believe there’s sufficient evidence for this case to go to court.”
“Why? Because it might stain the stellar reputation of his peers?” My voice is smeared with repulsed sarcasm. I know who’s attempting to run that branch of the Justice Department. He isn’t an honorable man.
Just like me, Grayson refuses to back down when he’s on the losing team. “Because this is a he-said-she-said case.”
“That makes no sense. Crombie fled the scene—”
I step back in shock when Grayson interrupts, “Because he’s claiming he cares for Melody too much to publicly expose her as an adulterous.”
“What?” Surely, I heard him wrong. I’m completely and utterly confused.
Grayson increases his volume to ensure he’s heard through the thud of my pulse in my ears. “Crombie is claiming he’s known Melody since she was sixteen, and that they’ve been having an affair for the past two months.”
“No,” I reply without pause or consideration. “Melody isn’t like that. She’d never sleep with another man.” She’d never break my heart like that. “He’s lying.”
“The evidence doesn’t look good, Brandon. That’s why the ADA has to be cautious. Even you produced evidence that favored the accused’s claims.”
I scoff loudly. “What evidence? I haven’t given them any evidence.”
I hear a noise like Grayson dragging a hand over his kiddy-beard before he breathes out, “You told them about seeing Crombie’s truck at Melody’s parents’ funeral, and how it followed the Greggs out of the hospital parking lot only a few days earlier.”
“To prove he’s stalking her! That had nothing to do with them possibly having an affair.” I lower my burly tone when Melody murmurs in her sleep. She must feel the anger radiating out of me. While peering at her beautiful face, I say with utmost certainty, “Melody would never do what Crombie is saying. He’s lying to save his tail, Grayson. We can’t let him get away with this.”
His sigh this time around sounds more tormented than his first. “I understand what you’re saying, and I also agree with you, but even if Melody denies his claims until she’s blue in the face, I don’t see the DA agreeing to prosecute this case. It’s a waste of their time. We would have had more chance of him facing time if we had prosecuted him for arson.”
With my mind churning overtime, I ask, “Why would that make a difference?”
“Crombie has two prior convictions for arson. A third would’ve been an automatic felony. He could have faced twenty years behind bars.”
The pieces of the puzzle fit together remarkedly quick considering how late it is. “So why aren’t they prosecuting him for the fire in Melody’s dorm?”
Grayson pauses for a few seconds before muttering, “Because you bumped the candle into the curtain when you chased after Crombie.”
“No, I allegedly bumped the candle into the curtain. Who’s to say the fire hadn’t already been lit before that?”
Grayson’s huff reveals he knows where I’m going with this, but it doesn’t indicate if he’s for or against it. “You stated in your report that you dove through the window to chase down the attacker.”
“I did… but not once did I say the curtain wasn’t on fire.”
