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When I look again, Lizzie is no longer there. But still, I find myself adding. “I’d tell her I forgive her. And that I wish I could hug her one last time.” The sob that tears from my chest is deep, and humiliated by the sound, I cover my mouth with my hand and try to regain some semblance of composure.
Harry doesn’t talk. He waits for me to begin again. I stare at the big clock on the bookcase for a solid five minutes, watching as the minute hand trudges by. When I finally break the silence with, “Being in a police station again was interesting,” I’m surprised that my thoughts have automatically returned to Aiden Flint for the second time in just fifteen minutes.
“How so?”
“Well, I was sober for once,” I laugh. “And I wasn’t in a holding cell, so I guess that’s progress.”
“Did being there cause any of your past trauma to surface?”
“No, actually. I mean, there was some initial anxiety when I first entered, but nothing unmanageable.”
“That’s great, Catherine. That shows separation.”
“Yeah…”
He waits patiently, sensing that I want to add more.
“It’s silly, really...”
“I doubt that.”
A girlish laugh breaks free. “I, uh, was interviewed by this cop…”Oh, God.
“Does he have a name?”
“Lieutenant Aiden Flint.”
“And you liked him?”
When I glance up, Harry just smiles.
“I don’t know, really,” I say, looking down at my folded hands as I think about Aiden. “He has these eyes that justseethings, you know. It’s like he could tell exactly how I was feeling just by looking at me.” Harry is watching me closely, so closely that I blush. “I think he’s part of the reason I managed so well—at the police station. He made me feel safe while I was there. Even though he knew we were escorts—and probably that I’man addict too—he never felt judgmental or forceful. Justkind.”
Harry makes a considering sound in the back of his throat as he waits for me to continue.
“And it was so strange, to talk to someone who knew exactly who I was and what I had done in my past and to feel that he wasn’t judging me.”
“He showed empathy.”
“He did,” I agree. “Even though he didn’t have to.”
“Why do you think that is?”
“I don’t know.” My nervous fingers find the bracelet on my wrist, and my mind flits back to the moment Aiden gave me his business card. He didn’t have to do that. Only one other person has ever volunteered to come for me if I ever needed help before. But between the two men, I know I’d call Aiden first if I was ever in trouble. “I doubt it meant anything. But I didn’t kill Elizabeth, so I didn’t mind telling him what I know—it wasn’t much.”
Harry smiles, but he looks concerned. “That’s great.” He looks pointedly down at the tissues scrunched in my hand. “But now more than ever, you need to focus onyou, Catherine.”
“You’re right, Harry.” And feeling an unnecessary need to explain further, I add, “It wasn’t like we…you know,hit it offor anything. It was just nice, to talk to a cop and not feel like I was going to break out in hives.”
“I’ll bet.”
“Even once I got home afterward, I felt calm. Like I could relax because I trusted him to find out whatever happened to Lizzie.”
Harry nods in understanding, his eyes softening with kindness. “How are things at home?”
Pushing Aiden to the back of my mind, I talk to Harry about the girls and how each of them seems to be coping. “Home is so different without Lizzie, but also peaceful for the first time,” I admit. “I think that’s why none of us can really talk about it with each other—especially with Toni. It’s like we’re afraid that if we do, we might admit too much.”
“You think the girls feel that relief too?”
