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If Joan and Brendon had sex that morning, Phoebe slept through it. When she woke up around eleven, they were gone and she had missed her Volleyball class—another mandatory course that the college made her take. She stayed in bed until the afternoon alternating between a dreamless sleep and staring at the ceiling.
Sure, she felt drained but it came with a weird feeling of peace. Was this closure? Logically, she knew her parents were never coming back. Phoebe had given up on that fantasy two years into the group home. But now there were fewer questions. Her memories of that night fit mostly to what she read in the transcripts of the court case and Keith's notes that he made when talking with both lawyers.
There really was only one more question: Why?
Why her house?
Freeman said it was because her father was selling drugs. Maryanne told her stories about her family who cooked meth and sold out of the various places they lived. That wasn’t Phoebe's family life at all. Maryanne once told her that her parents would have wild parties and the smell of weed still made her want to dance to Nickelback. The only weed Phoebe remembered were the dandelions in her front yard. Her parents didn't even smoke cigarettes and the only pills her mother took were Advil when she had a headache.
Why didn't Freeman just rob the house and leave?
With her mother and her barricaded in the basement, they could have ransacked the house and left before the cops could come and pin the murder of her father on them. But Martin Jarvis kicked down the door to get to her mother. The evidence suggested that he raped and strangled her mother—just the thought of that had her running for the bathroom again.
Then according to the report, Jarvis poured gasoline all over the basement to cover the murder. But he caught himself on fire and died on the floor next to her mother from the smoke.
What was Louis Freeman doing while Martin Jarvis was with her mother? She shuffled her memory until it came to her.
He said he had been looking for Phoebe. Ugh.
Phoebe got into the shower to try and wash the grief and ugliness off her. Then it hit her. At that point, the fire hadn't started yet. Freeman knew she had been in the basement with her mother. He hadn't known she escaped out the window. Shutting off the shower, she wrapped a towel around her and searched her desk for a pen. She wrote on the back of a rough draft copy of one of her freshman articles:
11:25 p.m. Mom locks us in the basement.
11:30 p.m. Phoebe escapes. No fire. Jarvis & Mom in basement. Where is Freeman?
11:40 p.m. Phoebe gets help. The police are called.
Jarvis kills Mom. Starts fire. Sets himself on fire. Freeman? Upstairs? Said he was looking for Phoebe. Didn't know Phoebe escaped. Freeman never talked to Jarvis.
Midnight - The fire is uncontrollable. Freeman is gone. Jarvis, Mom & Dad in house dead already. Gasoline went up too fast. Jarvis hit with smoke inhalation. Never got out of basement.
Phoebe got dressed. She needed to speak with Keith. While she wasn't wearing a skirt without panties, Phoebe did dress nicer than normal and put on make up to cover the lack of sleep. She wasn’t sure she was ready to forgive him just yet for keeping his thesis a secret. But she did know, she didn’t want Louis Freeman taking anything else away from her.
Keith wasn't in the Sentinel's office, which probably wasn't a surprise since he had a late night. When she opened up her computer, she had a bunch of emails, but the two that stood out were from Cosmo and Modern Femme.
She opened Cosmopolitan to find a form letter rejection: We're sorry to inform you your material does not quite fit our needs.
Not liking the odds, she clicked on the one from Modern Femme. Also a form letter rejection: Not right for us.
Gutted, but having no more tears left in her, Phoebe went down to the Rathskeller for a conciliatory cappuccino and biscotti. When she came back, she read Keith's email from last night. It was also short and sweet. I know you can't forgive me. I'm sorry. Please just let me know that you're safe.
She didn't know what she felt for Keith. Caring for someone just didn't go away because they were a jerk and made a really bad decision. Phoebe certainly wasn't eager to jump back in bed with him, but that could be because she was feeling sore and achy this morning. She was pretty sure he could convince her to cuddle, if he still wanted to be her boyfriend.
Phoebe let herself imagine having a place with Keith and found herself blushing. They'd have to work on eating dinner before any sexy stuff, though, otherwise there would be a lot of cold meals.
The anger drifted away as the day went on. The mundane of going to classes calmed and settled her. Remembering what was in the file didn’t make her heart race or stop her breath. It just made her sad. Curiosity came forth more than anguish. For the first time, Phoebe thought she might just escape the nightmares. She had dinner alone in the Sentinel’s office. Keith still wasn’t there.
Phoebe believed him when he said he wasn't using her as a source or for some weird extension of his uncle's fantasies. He never even brought the subject up except for last night when he probably would have told her.
Her calendar program dinged to let her know that she had class in fifteen minutes. She didn't really feel like going, but it would help get her mind back to normal. She passed the editor-in-chief of the paper on the way to the elevators.
"Hey Jones," Shayne said, "Have you heard the bad news?"
"What bad news?" Phoebe didn't think she could take another surprise.
"Keith quit last night. We're going to get a new faculty advisor."
"What? Quit school or just the paper?" Phoebe felt the color drain from her face. Her fingers went automatically for her pearls.
"The paper. He's contracted for the Freshman Comp classes until the end of the year."
***
KEITH WAS SURPRISED to see Phoebe waiting outside his Freshman Comp class that night. He braced himself for a fight, but she gave him a tentative smile and wave. He smiled and nodded back. Maybe she had a late class. But to his surprise, she came up to him.
"Why did you quit the paper?" she asked.
Phoebe followed him as he left the building and headed for the parking lot. "It's what I should have done when you first joined. It's a conflict of interest to my thesis."
"Just your thesis?" She laid a hand on his arm, stopping him. He looked around at the students filing in to the building for classes and those getting into cars.
"Yeah." He kissed her forehead and was going to move on, when her arms caught him a bear hug that nearly strangled the breath from him. After a second to confirm she really wasn't trying to kill him, he wrapped his arms around her.
"I thought you wanted to be my boyfriend." Her voice was muffled against his sweater.
"I do." He stroked her silky hair. "I figured you hated me."
"No. Still a little pissed, but I'm getting over it." She pushed away from him. "I also want to show you something I've been thinking about. Can we get dinner?"
"Sure. You want to go to the diner?"
Phoebe's grin eased the ragged edges in his heart. "I'd love to. This weekend, do you want to come to O'Dell's with me in New Haven?"
"It's a bit of a hike on my bike." He gave her a mock shiver.
"Joan and Brendon are coming too. We're going to take his car."
"You want to double date?"
"Not really, but it's the cost of using the car."
"I've got no plans."
***
AT THE DINER, KEITH looked over the notes she had jotted down. "I can ask him these questions for you." They poked holes in Louis’ bullshit story and it was nice to have an eyewitness to back up some of the theories he had.
Phoebe looked down into her dinner plate as if the gyro would tell her what to say. "Is there any way I can talk to him?"
Keith shook his head. "No way."
"I wouldn't lose my shit. I'm getting a handle on the panic attacks. Believe it or not, seeing that file helped." Phoebe fiddled with the food on her plate.
"It's not my rule. It's family only."
"At the prison?"
"No," Keith said. "You could probably see about going up to see him there if you contact his lawyer. I'd go with you if you want. Not to talk to him, but to be your moral support." He reached across the table to squeeze her hand. "You're special to me."
She blinked back tears. "Thank you. I needed to hear that."
"I'll say it more often." He kissed the back of her hand. He was grateful to have a second chance with her. He wasn't going to let anything screw this up.
"Do you think he'd see me?"
"Yes." Keith considered leaving the answer at that, but he didn't want any more secrets between them. "Ever since he found out you didn't die in the house, he's been obsessed with you."
"In what way?" She frowned.
"His lawyer said he tried to find out information about you. But since you were a minor during the trial, all information on you was blocked. He could Google your name, but I don’t think he would find out anything new. I know he wrote you letters.”
“That’s creepy,” Phoebe said. “Were they at least apology letters?”
“According to his lawyer, he never mailed them. Didn’t have an address. Although, I don’t think he’d be allowed to send them even if he did. Do you want me to see if I can get them?”
He watched her think about it. She stared at the window a long time before answering. “Yes.”
“It would be a one way correspondence. Even if you wanted to, you wouldn't be able to write him because he committed a crime against you."
"What do you think he knows about me?"
"Just that you lived. That your mother pushed out the window to save you."
Phoebe nodded. "I don't want him to know where I go to college or my address. Even with a life sentence. It would be too much for me to know he knew where I was."
“I won’t tell him. You shouldn’t worry about him for too much longer. He’s got stage four cancer.”
"Good," Phoebe said, taking a bite of her gyro. "I hope it's painful.
Keith's lips twisted. "I'll let you know. But the only reason he's out of prison is because he'll be at Yale New Haven Hospital to remove a tumor. If it were up to me, I'd let it rot him from the inside out."
"Why?" she asked. "I mean, I feel the same way. But it's personal for you too."
"He destroyed two families that day." Keith forced himself to eat his meatloaf and mashed potatoes before they turned to ash in his mouth from the bitter memories.
Phoebe slid the pearls through her fingers. "My mother's last hour on earth must have been hell."
"Don't torture yourself. She got you free. I think that was a comfort to her."
Phoebe wiped tears with her napkin. "I'm trying not to cry again. I thought I was all cried out. Tell me, though. Tell me why you picked this case for your thesis."
Kevin tossed his napkin on his plate. "I knew it and the people involved. It made research easier. But that's just the surface reason."
Rubbing the back of his neck, Keith tried to put it into words. "I know this is nothing compared to murder and arson, but he tore our family apart. He threatened to kill my Aunt Sally because she turned him in. My mother tried to defend him and my aunt hasn't spoken to her since. My father would put a bullet in his head in a heartbeat and my mother spends all of her time trying to redeem him and feels guilty that she didn't see what he had become. She got a second job to send him money because my father wouldn’t allow a dime out of the household finances to go to him. My mother works from six until eleven five nights a week at a grocery store so that jackhole can get Little Debbie snack cakes.”
He realized his voice had risen by the curious looks he was getting.
Phoebe reached out to hold his hand. It centered him.
“It nearly ruined my parents’ marriage,” Keith continued in a lower tone. “And me? Well, it’s like there are two Louis Freemans. One took me fishing every Sunday after church in the summer. He came to my football games from elementary school on up. The other was the bastard that’s in the jail cell."
"What happened?"
Keith spread his arms in a large shrug. "Maybe I’m just seeing him with adult eyes instead of as an adoring nephew. My first reaction was denial as well."
"Did he do cocaine?" she asked.
"I never saw him do it. He certainly didn't have the money to afford it. And his urine test from prison came back negative for all drugs."
"There were no drugs at my house."
"I never bought the drug angle." Keith stared into his glass of Mountain Dew and wished it was something stronger. "But that was his story and he stuck to it."
"Do you have doubts about his guilt?"
Keith shook his head. "Eyewitness saw him." He pointed at her. "He admitted to being there."
"He said killing my father was self defense."
"He said a lot of things that were self-serving bullshit," Keith said "After he was put away, I got closer to my aunt because my mom was working all the time. She told me he had been cheating on her and was skimming money from their business. He was a handyman. He'd give a discount for cash payment and then never bill them through the system."
"What was he doing with the money?"
"Buying things for his mistress, and socking money away in a secret account."
"Who was she?"
Keith shrugged. "My aunt didn't know. Just that he was leaving her for the slut."
"Maybe she was the one on drugs."
Keith considered it. "Yeah, it's possible."
"She never came forward, though."
"Would you?" he asked.
"Probably not. All these secrets make my head hurt." She rubbed her temples.
Keith could sympathize. "Are you hanging in there?"
"I've had better weeks," Phoebe admitted. "Cosmo and Modern Femme rejected me,"
"Ouch," he said.
"I've still got a couple more submissions out there, but they don't pay as well as those two."
"Do you still want to do the series?" Keith coughed. "I'm not asking because I expect to be included. I was just wondering."
"I don't know. It was kind of neat to write about having sex in the library. Last night is too mixed up with your uncle to make me feel cool about writing about it."
"I understand," he said.
“I don’t want to stop seeing you,” she said. “I’m going to need a little time to get over the hurt that you kept something so important from me.”
Keith nodded. He could understand that and it was more than he hoped for.
“I still want to be your girlfriend.”
He grinned. “Good. I’ll give you all the space you need. You let me know where and when and I’ll be there.”
"How about after dinner at O'Dell's this Saturday?" Phoebe lowered her voice. "I can’t guarantee you that I won’t still be a little upset, but I’m not going to let that get in the way of a good time.”
“How good of a time are we talking about?” Keith couldn’t believe his luck.
“I was hoping we could go to a sex shop and buy a few new toys to try out."
He put his fork down and took a long swallow of water. "Are you sure about this?"
Phoebe nodded. "I'm sick of letting my past define me. This is who I am. College freshman. I'm ready to accept the next phase of my life."
"You think sex is going to do it?"
"If not, I'm going to have a hell of a good time." Phoebe winked at him.
Keith couldn’t argue with that logic.