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“We’re at the studio. Lily received a package from the stalker - a dead rat, and a threatening note. We already called the police.”
I hear Brody’s breath through the line; it’s deep and worried.
“I knew I should have put someone on her at all times…” He laments. “Stay put and wait for the police. Also, text me the address and I’ll be right there.”
“Okay.” Sandra ends the call then texts him right away.
We wait, excruciating moments where I have no thoughts for anything, save for living in fear and dread. The police come first, checks the package, and take my statement down. Sandra asks the officers to wait for Brody, and they comply, accepting some coffee until he arrives.
“What did I miss?” Brody asks when he walks in, serious as a heart attack.
“Mr. Garrison, your sister tells us you witnessed a possible attack against Ms. Rockwell?” The first officer asks.
“Yes, yes I did.” Brody nods. “It was last Thursday, during the blackout.”
“Do you mind coming with us to the station to give your statement?” The officer continues.
Brody looks at me, and I look at him with wide eyes, expecting him to protect me. In fact, I then realize I was missing his protection all throughout the weekend, despite feeling awkward about what happened between us.
“I don’t,” Brody says. “Let’s go.”
He motions towards the door, but the officer holds him back for a moment. “Ms. Rockwell, I would like to gather your statement from that night as well.”
And suddenly I’m not okay. Receiving the package was stressful enough, now going to a noisy police station doesn’t seem like the best idea.
However, I’m unable to verbalize it other than going into another crying fit. I’m blind and numb to my surroundings when I feel a strong hand touch my face with care, calling for my attention and making me look up.
It’s Brody, looking at me with compassion, being the protector he trained all his life to be.
“Ms. Rockwell is shaken right now,” Brody says. “Maybe we can schedule her statement for another time?”
The two police officers look at each other and come to a silent agreement. “Just give us a phone number and we’ll call you,” the first officer says.
Sandra gives them her number. Brody tells her to wait for one of his men before we leave.
And I remain sitting, quiet in my little world as life slowly goes back to normal around me.
There’s no way I’m going to be able to continue rehearsing, but at least I take solace in the fact that Brody keeps on watching over me.
Chapter Eight
BRODY
It’sthefollowingweekendand I arrive with Lily at the show’s venue: an art gallery, perfect for the pocket show Sandra had planned.
“Are you okay?” I put a hand on her shoulder.
“I’m fine.” She smiles with hints of sadness.
“Were the policemen tough today?”
Lily shakes her head. “A lady officer got my statement. She was very kind.”
“Are you sure you can do the show?” I ask, worried.
Now she furrows her brow, angry. “I can handle it. Please don’t patronize me.”
The show is in two hours, and we’re guided by the local security towards the specific room meant for Lily. Sandra is already there, talking on the phone.
