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Violet stared at the phone as Casey hung up, then panic took over. Jumping to her feet, Violet said, “I’m sorry, I have to go.”
“Is something wrong with Casey?”
“He’s going to the police station but won’t tell me why.”
Her father threw down some money. “I’ll follow you.”
Violet almost argued, almost told him that she could handle it, but paused. It had taken a lot for him to come back here and face his kids. He could have stayed away and started over elsewhere, but he was here. Trying.
Dean had tried to tell her that people changed. She owed it to herself to see if he was right.
“Fine.”
Her father’s face brightened, and he raced ahead to open the door for her.
And at least when you get to the station, you won’t have to face Dean alone.
When Violet arrived at the police station fifteen minutes later, she and her father were brought back to a holding room where Casey and Dean sat. As they stood up, Violet avoided Dean’s gaze awkwardly, a blush burning her cheeks.
“What is going on?” Violet asked, grabbing Casey to her in a bear hug.
Casey stared past Violet at his father. “Dad?”
“Hey, Case. Wow, you got big.”
“I’m short,” Casey said.
Their father smiled softly. “So was I, until I was eighteen.”
Violet’s chest pinched when Casey returned his smile. “Really?”
As much as Violet wanted Casey to have this moment with their dad, they were inside a police station and she was dying to find out why. “Why are we here, Case? Did something happen with your sentence?”
“No, no I—” He glanced over at Dean and their dad. “Can I talk to Violet alone?”
Dean clapped him on the shoulder. “I’ll be right outside.”
Violet stared at him, wishing she could say something, anything, but she didn’t want to talk in front of Casey or her father.
“I’m Jack Douglas.”
“Dean Sparks. I’m a friend of your daughter and son.”
Whatever else was said between them was lost to her as they left the room. Violet sat down next to Casey at the table. “What is going on?”
Violet could feel Casey shaking next to her, and the fear squeezing her stomach into knots intensified.
“I’m going to tell them what happened to me,” he said.
That one statement hit Violet in the gut like a sucker punch. “You are?” He nodded slowly, and she wrapped her arm around his shoulder. “What changed your mind?”
“Jose. He’s been wanting me to come forward with him, but I told him it would be our word against his.”
Violet’s heart slammed in her chest. “Whose?”
“The art teacher at the youth center, Mr. Davis.”
Mr. Davis. The tall, lanky art teacher had been so kind when she’d gone down to the youth center to sign Casey up last year. So normal. How could she not have known he was a monster?
