Page 121 of Not How I Saw That Going

“Thank you, sir,” Maddie says into her phone. She hangs up, then studies the fridge before facing me. She purses her lips and the look in her eyes instantly has my nerves on end.

“What is it?” I ask, suddenly feeling the need to sit down. It’s bad news about Rodney. It has to be. He was released and is free again to hunt me down again.

Maddie takes a step closer before responding. “You know how I took the last two days off from my internship to be here with you and Crew?”

My eyebrows narrow. “Yeah.”

“Well, I told my boss what was going on. And I gave him some of the letters Rodney has been sending.”

I want to be upset with her, but she’s only been thinking like a lawyer and stacking up the evidence for me.

“W-what did he say?” I chew my bottom lip.

“He offered to take your case, pro bono, with me as his assistant. Lyndi, he’s good. Really good. Rodney won’t be seeing daylight anytime soon.”

My legs buckle beneath me, not out of fear, but relief. Maybe everything will be alright. Someday.

“Maddie.” I rush to her, wrapping my arms around my best friend. “You did that for me?”

She hugs me back, her embrace just as earnest as my own. “I’d do anything for you and Crew. It’s my fault Rodney found you. If I had never insisted we do a TikTo—”

“Stop,” I shush her.

She’s apologized no less than five thousand times in the last two days. No matter what she thinks, it wasn’t her fault. Rodney would have found me anyway. He would have forced his way back into my life no matter what. I’m just grateful she was able to keep Crew safe, that Rodney was lying about an accomplice.

“Thank you,” I whisper through my tears of gratitude for my best friend. “And thank you for getting me off the couch.”

She takes a deep breath. “Thank you for showering.”

Forty Three

Ward

Ifallontomysister’s couch after dinner for the third night in a row. This has been the longest week of my life without Lyndi and Crew.

“You’re pathetic,” Collins says, one second before she drops a laundry basket on my stomach. “Might as well make yourself useful. I don’t need another pointless throw pillow hogging the couch.”

I look at the basket to confirm it’s not my brother-in-law’s underwear, or worse. But it’s filled with pink little girl clothes.

Safe.

“Okay.” I sit up straighter, focusing my attention on the TV as I pull the top item from the basket.

I turn the tiny tutu right side out and fold it into a square, or some other shape. I don’t really care.

“Oh my. Are you serious?” Collins tosses a remote at me and I barely flinch when it hits my chest.

“What?” I ask, but I can’t take my eyes off the television because Tom Brady is about to throw a touchdown pass. Also, I don’t want to.

The TV goes black.

“Hey!” I whip my head around to see what just happened.

Collins steps in front of me. Her hands on her hips. “What is wrong with you?”

I give her a blank look. “What?”

“Stop saying what!” she yells, then picks up the nearest item, a decorative glass figurine.