I pulled the chair as close to the hospital bed as I could, all the time clutching Teigan’s hand in mine. She was sleeping. She’d probably need to sleep for a week, the doctors had said, just to ease her emotional exhaustion on top of everything else.
Her eyes had sunk into her sockets. Her hipbones were poking through her skin. She had been hooked up to a drip because she had been so dehydrated. Her skin looked almost grey through lack of nutrition. Her left arm was bandaged where Steph had cut her to spill the blood for the scarf. Anger trembled through me again at the thought of it. I took a deep breath. It was over now. Rhys had corroborated my story, despite DC Rebecca Reynolds initially believing that it was me trying to frame Steph. Apparently, Steph had already rung DS Clarke to try and convince him that was the case. Finally, she’d caught on to what was happening. She and DS Clarke had returned to Rhys’ place, had charged Steph, and had remanded her in custody.
Teigan was safe … although I knew better than anyone that the long-term effects of these traumatic experiences were often the most damaging.
“Knock, knock?” It was the newly familiar voice of DC Rebecca Reynolds.
“Oh, hi.”
“Can I come in?”
“Sure.”
“I just wanted to update you.” She pulled up another chair next to mine. “Steph has confessed to everything, including her attempts to frame you.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “Good.”
“She, um, did keep banging on about you being guilty of murdering your father, though.”
I stayed silent. I wasn’t out of the woods yet. “I suppose I’m still on bail for that one?”
She nodded. “Yes, but as you know, DS Clarke was the lead on that, so I’ll be leaving that to him.”
My head started to swirl with wonderings of what would happen next. Would I be parted from Teigan again soon to serve a custodial sentence? How long would it be? Ten years? Fifteen? “Is he here?”
“Soon, I think. He wanted to come see you and Teigan after the arrest, but he had to sort out his childcare first. You know the drill.” She smiled and gestured towards Teigan, sleeping peacefully in the bed.
“Sure.” I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, unsure of how much Teigan would hear in her fluctuating state of consciousness if DS Clarke were to start talking in the hospital room. “I might just wait for him out front, if that’s okay. I don’t really want him coming in here.”
She nodded in understanding. “Of course.”
“Would you mind … keeping an eye on her? Just while I’m outside?”
She smiled as she squeezed my hand in reassurance. “I won’t leave her side until you’re back. Promise.”
I headed down to the reception area, surprised to see that DS Clarke had already arrived, and he wasn’t alone. An older woman was sitting on the blue chairs in the reception area with a small child fidgeting on her lap. DS Clarke was on the phone, a frustrated look on his face.
“Just a normal taxi, please. From the hospital. Can you not get one here any sooner than that? My mother-in-law needs to get my daughter home to bed … fine, fine. Half- hour wait. Thank you.”
He caught my eye and whispered something to the lady, who passed the little girl to him as she stood up.
“Right, monkey, I have a mission for you! The taxi is going to pick you guys up as soon as possible. So, while you wait, can you be a good girl and go with Nanna to find Daddy a coffee?”
“Can I get sweeties, too?”
“Of course.” He kissed her on the forehead and put her down. She took her grandma’s hand and started skipping along.
“Sorry,” I said as I moved closer, unsure whether or not to sit down on one of the chairs. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. Rebecca said you were around.”
“It’s fine, no worries.”
“Is your wife at home waiting for them?” I nodded my head in the direction his family had gone.
He shook his head. “My wife isn’t with us anymore. She died eighteen months ago. That was her mother with my little girl.”
“Oh.” My heart sank for him. All this time I’d assumed he had the perfect family life he was going home to every day. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” He gestured to the seats. “Perhaps we should sit down.”
“I suppose you’re here because you want to know what’s going to happen to you now.”
I nodded, not daring to speak.
“Well, I think it’s fair to say that I know what happened. I’d looked into it all, anyway, and had spoken with DS Colliers, not to mention Steph’s statement about it in her confession.”
“Mm.” My mind went into overdrive. How soon would I be sent to prison? What would happen to Teigan? Foster care? My stomach clenched at the idea that she might turn out like Steph, turned mad by the events of her childhood.
“However,” Clarke continued, “I’m also very aware that you were a victim of sexual abuse at his hands and that it was an act to protect your sister, something I think she will understand one day.”
I wasn’t sure if that was true, but I truly hoped so. I hoped that one day Steph would believe me that I’d only ever wanted to save her from the pain I had suffered.
“Plus, you’ve got enough on your plate looking after Teigan, who is going to need you now more than ever. So, my proposal is this: I ignore some of the more … gruesome details …” I winced, knowing he was referring to the funnel down the throat. “And I write it up as an act of self-defence from a vulnerable individual who was pregnant and suffering from undiagnosed mental health issues due to trauma at the time. As it’s a historical issue, as well, with no other incidences since, you’ll probably end up with a deferred sentence and some community service.”
Relief flooded through me for the second time that day. “So, I won’t go to jail?”
He shook his head. “Not unless you plan on committing any more crimes during your deferred sentence, no.”
“I won’t. I swear.” I leant forward and touched his non-fractured arm gently with my hand. “Thank you, DS Clarke.”
He cleared his throat. “You, uh, have to promise me one thing in return, though.”
“Yes?”
“I want you to just focus on you and Teigan for a while. Not work or the Walker Foundation — just focus on your own family.”
“I will,” I nodded, tears of relief threatening to spill over. “Although it’s not called the Walker Foundation anymore.”
“Oh?”
“It’s the Walker & Dannot Foundation now, to acknowledge the bravery and courage Rhys Dannot showed when groomed into being part of an abusive situation.”
Clarke smiled. “That’s a lovely gesture. I’m sure he’ll appreciate that.”
“Thanks.”
“And, sorry, by the way, for mistakenly accusing you of all this. I’m glad the truth came out in the end.”
I smiled. “It always does, right?”
“It always does.”