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“No, that’s all,” I say.
“Would you mind just reviewing the notes on the page and signing your names at the bottom if you agree it’s an accurate account?” Blackwood says, passing me his notepad.
Lila leans in to look over my shoulder as we read the notes in silence. I look at her, my eyes searching hers for confirmation before I sign my name.
I hand back the notepad. “Thank you for coming out tonight.”
“Just doing our job, mate,” Torres says. “The first twenty-four hours are crucial, and the information you’ve given us is vital. We’re grateful you called it in.”
“Yea, of course.”
I stand up to walk them out, but Torres speaks again.
“As I mentioned earlier, because you are witnesses to a serious incident, it’s possible we may need to follow up with you again as the investigation progresses. Do you have any plans of leaving the country in the near future?”
“No, sir.”
“Alright, please let us know if that changes, just in case we need to get in touch.” He pulls out a card from his folder and notes down a number on it. “The crime reference number is 596 with today’s date. If you do think of anything else – even something you’re unsure about - please just call that number and give the reference. It will put you through straight to us. Even the tiniest details in cases like this can help.”
“Thank you, we will.”
“There is also a support service available on that number, if you find you are struggling to process what you’ve seen. It’s completely optional, but they are good at helping people in incidents like this.”
“Thank you, we’ll keep that in mind,” I say.
Finally, they leave, and I lock the door behind them.
Sitting back down on the couch, I put my arm around Lila, pulling her in to me.
“You alright?” I murmur.
She nods, snuggling her head against my chest.
“It’s over now,” I whisper, rubbing her arm. “We’re safe.”
We sit there for several minutes, not speaking or moving, the ticking of the clock the only sound in the room.
“I should get back,” she says eventually, a reluctance in her voice that tells me she wants to do anything but that.
I want to offer her to stay. The words are on the tip of my tongue, and I know she would, but I don’t want her to feel pressured.
I don’t want her to regret anything.
“Yea,” I whisper, but I don’t let her go.
A moment later, she sits up, easing herself free from my arms, her gaze lifting toward the stairs.
“Thank you for the clothes. I’ll just go change,” she says.
“No. You keep them.”
Her eyes light up and a small smile creeps across her face for the first time since we’ve come downstairs. “Really?”
“Absolutely.” I stand up, pulling her up with me as I wrap my arms around her waist. “They suit you.” Softly, I kiss her lips, holding her as long as she’ll let me.
A warmth spreads through me as I picture her falling asleep wearing them.
“Thank you,” she says softly.