Silence settles between us for a second.
Daniels hesitates before speaking, “He said he wasn’t trying to hurt anyone. Rick says he checked your booking site. Made sure the cabin was empty.”
I look at Becca. She doesn’t soften completely, but I see a slight dip in her shoulders with relief.
“That doesn’t make it okay,” she says.
“No,” Daniels agrees. “It doesn’t.”
I exhale slowly. “He got in over his head,” I mutter.
“That’s usually how this goes,” Daniels confirms.
Becca straightens slightly beside me. “And now? What happens?”
“We move forward,” Daniels responds confidently. “Charges are filed. He’s not walking away from this.”
I nod once, feeling a rush of relief. “Alright.”
“We’ll be in touch,” Daniels informs.
I lower the phone slowly, pulling Becca closer, needing to touch her.
“He was trying to trap the business,” I add. “Slow everything down. Buy time.”
“Yeah, he did. And it almost worked,” she whispers, more to herself than me.
We stand there for a second, the noise of the fair pressing back in around us. Kids laughing while someone is shouting about funnel cake in the distance.
“He checked the website,” I say, quieter. “Made sure no one was staying at the cabin that night.”
“I know, but that doesn’t make it okay,” she says.
“Agreed.”
“But it does mean something. That even if he isn’t a good guy, he isn’t a monster, didn’t want to hurt anyone.”
I don’t know if it is any type of proof, or maybe I just want it to be. To believe in the good parts I saw of him, and that he hid the parts brought out by desperation. I look down at her and wrap my arms tighter around her waist, breathing in her scent.
“Nobody got hurt, the cabin and property are okay, and so are we,” I say, more to myself than anything.
She studies me for a second, then gives me a small smile. “Yeah, we are.”
Leaning in closer, resting her head on my shoulder for a moment, we savor this feeling, something I nearly destroyed.
“Come on,” Becca hums, leaning back abruptly, holding my hand. “You owe me a stuffed animal.”
I huff out a laugh. “I knew that was a trap.”
“Everything is a trap,” she chirps back. “You should know that by now.”
I glance at her, catching the smirk she’s trying to hide.We walk a little farther in, past the food stands and the game booths, when I spot them. Holly first. She’s standing near one of the vendor tents, hair pulled back, talking with her hands like she always does when she’s excited. She's in jeans and a floral blouse,Soluna Ateliertote over one shoulder, looking like someone who’s finally settling into herself.
And next to her is my mom. She's dressed for a garden party in the middle of a fairground.
I slow down without meaning to, and Becca feels it immediately.
“What?” she asks quietly.
