Everything happened in a blur. The police rushed in, and Chelsea and Bex were rushed out. They were each sitting on the tailgate of separate ambulances, Laney in front of Chelsea with Chelsea’s parents fawning over her. Bex by herself, an itchy blanket slung over her shoulders.
When Detective Schuster walked up, she looked away, embarrassment burning to the tops of her ears.
“I-I’m sorry,” she said.
“For what?”
Bex looked up incredulously. “Uh, for hiding a criminal. For accusing you of being a serial killer.”
He jammed his hands into his pockets and shrugged. “Not the first time it’s happened.” He cleared his throat. “I want you to know that I meant what I said. We were looking out for you. You were never on your own.”
“How did you—”
“Keystrokes. We were following your keystrokes.”
Bex blinked, staring at her feet, at the tears that plopped onto the toes of her sneakers. When she looked up, Schuster was looking at her, hard.
“So you knew not to trust me. You knew that I would cave and try to save my father.”
“No. I knew that… Bex, what you did, you risked everything not once, but twice. I can’t even imagine how hard that must have been for you. I wanted to give you every kind of support that I could. Truth is, I never really got over what happened ten years ago.”
“What are you talking about?”
Now Detective Schuster looked away, raked a hand through his hair. “I was young and stupid, a rookie gunslinger. I should never have involved you in your father’s case. It killed me to do it again but I couldn’t… I’ve spent the last ten years proud that I was able to protect you and guilt ridden knowing what making you talk must have done to you. I wanted the chance to make it right. I wanted to do it right this time, but your father…” He looked at Bex, his eyes glistening with moisture. “I was terrified that you’d be his next victim.”
“In a way, I kind of was.”
“Oh my God, Bex!” Denise came running, with Michael on her heels, followed by Trevor. They all swept her into a group hug. Bex didn’t hug them back, dumbfounded, unsure of what to do. Detective Schuster stepped out of the way.
“Hi,” Bex said softly.
“Hi?” Denise cradled Bex’s chin. “She staves off a serial killer and all she says hi?” She plopped a series of loud kisses across Bex’s cheeks and forehead. “I’m just so glad you’re okay.”
Trevor stood beside her, looking like he wanted to kiss her too, but he took her hand instead. “You’re incredible.”
“Oh, my girl. I feel like I need to make you seven hamburgers. And pancakes!” Michael pulled her into a rib-crushing bear hug.
“Don’t you think she’s suffered enough?”
“What do you mean you want to cook for me? I… You know that…he’s my father. You don’t have to keep me.”
Denise looked taken aback. “You’re not your father, Bexy. And we know we don’t have to keep you. We care about you. We want to keep you.”
Trevor laced his fingers through Bex’s and pulled her to him. She inhaled his soap and cut-grass scent, for once thinking of only Trevor, of only that moment.
“And I get to keep you,” he whispered in her ear.
For the first time in her life, Bex Andrews knew she was truly at home.