AllFreeNovel
Share Us
A dry, sorrowful laugh spills past my lips. “You could say something like that. I had one friend in prison for a short time. But she was attacked. Everyone made sure to avoid me after that. I was bad luck.” I finally look up at Robyn. “Shortly before I was released, I was working in the kitchen. Someone came up behind me and shanked me. I almost died. I was found bleeding out on the kitchen floor.”
“And now you’re constantly looking over your shoulder.” It’s not a question. Troy has told her that part of my story. The only part he does know.
I nod. “The only difference between my marriage, prison, and now is I’m free now.”
Robyn studies me, and it feels like she’s trying to peel back my layers and expose my tender insides. “Are you? Are you really free?”
“I can come and go as I please. No one is physically abusing me or playing mind games with me. So yes, I believe I’m free.”
She writes something on her notepad. “Troy said you get flashbacks. What can you tell me about them?”
“Nothing, really.” I run my palms over my knees. “I don’t remember what happens during them.”
“How do you feel afterward?”
“Confused. On Monday, I had one at Picnic and Treats.” I tell her what happened both before and after I blacked out. “I don’t even remember how I ended up on the floor with the knife in my hand. I only remember chopping carrots, and I heard a loud crash.”
Robyn shifts the notepad on her lap and leans forward in her chair. “How does it make you feel knowing the killer is still out there?”
“Angry. Frustrated.” I close my eyes and release a slow, shaky breath. “Scared.” The word comes out as a small rusty squeak.
“Why scared?” Again, no judgment in her tone. Her voice is soft and coaxing.
“Because maybe deep, deep down, there’s a part of me that’s afraid the killer will track me down and kill me too. Which is irrational, because why bother? Why risk getting caught?”
“You have every reason to be scared, Jessica, after everything you’ve been through. But you also have the right to feel safe. You might want to file a report with the Maple Ridge Police Department so they’re alerted to what happened.”
My heart rate picks up at the suggestion. “That won’t be possible. I don’t trust the police.” Here or anywhere.
“After everything you’ve told me, I can see why. But just think about it.” She shifts in her seat. “Now, tell me what you do to relax.”
“Relax?” I sink farther back on the couch. “I guess I read. When I moved into the house I’m living in, it was filled with magazines dating back several decades. I’ve been sorting through them and reading the articles.”
“Why are you doing that?”
“Curiosity, mostly. I have a journalism degree. The magazines are like research—the evolution of journalism over the years. I even found articles written by some of the individuals I idolized in college.” That’s probably not what she was thinking when she asked what I do to relax. But it does relax me…or at least takes my mind off the events of the past ten years.
“Did you do anything with the degree once you graduated?”
“I had great plans for what I wanted to do with it. But then I fell in love. My husband didn’t support my career goals, and I eventually gave in to his demands, believing he was right.” It was just one brick in the tower of mistakes I’ve made over the years.
“Do you have any hobbies?”
I laugh, the sound part giggle, part self-deprecating. “I’ve only been out of prison for two and a half weeks. I haven’t had time for a hobby.”
“Did you have any hobbies while you were married?”
Yes, because my husband would’ve loved that. “I wasn’t allowed to have hobbies. Not later on, anyway. There wasn’t even time for them. Being his wife”—and the mother to our daughter—“was my full-time job.”
“What about before you were married? Did you have any hobbies or interests then?”
“I loved photography, especially photojournalism.”
“What did you love about it?”
I think about her question for a second. It’s been a long time since I’ve allowed myself to dwell on my love of photography, other than when Emily showed me the wedding photos last week. “I love how the right image can tell a powerful story. It can reveal things in a way words can’t. And when you combine the two, it takes storytelling to a new dimension. I love the creativity involved in the process, and I love capturing the contrast between the strength and beauty of the moment.”
Just saying the words causes a spark of anticipation for that instant when everything comes beautifully together.
