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‘Everyone’s going to know?’ I asked, not liking how small my voice came out.

‘They’re going to know Mitchell Covier has been accused of abusing children in the youth program, and that Thomas Dederich has been charged with second-degree murder,’ she said. ‘Your name won’t be mentioned.’

I reached for my coffee again, needing some time to put my thoughts in order.

‘I’m not sorry he’s dead,’ I said.

‘I really don’t blame you for feeling that way,’ Lena replied.

‘Mr Dederich … he’s not a bad person. If they need someone to give, like, a statement or something …’

‘You’d do that?’ Lena asked.

‘Yeah. If he wants that.’ The thought of speaking to the police voluntarily, or even getting up in court and telling a judge and jury what the Creep had done to me, made me feel sick, but it was the right thing to do. ‘Mr Dederich was just a parent trying to protect his kid.’

‘I’ll make sure that gets passed on to his lawyer. You’re a brave young woman, Jessie.’

I huffed a laugh. ‘Not really.’

‘I think so.’

‘If I was, I would’ve said something a long time ago.’ The guilt would eat at me for a long time to come.

‘You can’t change that. Or anything else that happened. But it seems like you’re making very mature decisions now.’

I wasn’t so sure about that, either. Brooke and I had made a whole bunch of stupid decisions alongside the really good ones, and I could guess why people weren’t exactly jumping at the idea of us being allowed to see each other again.

My heart hurt.

I was desperate for Brooke and that wild freedom we’d found together, and even though I knew real life wasn’t like that, I missed it. I wanted to be in the Mustang again, with the wind in our hair, half singing, half screaming the lyrics of some eighties rock band.

Being back in Seattle with the prospect of facing my demons – and my mom – was harder than I’d thought it would be.

Even though I had Lena and her endless patience backing me up, I knew the hard part was still to come.

Sooner or later, I’d have to do the mature stuff she thought I was capable of and face the music.

‘One step at a time,’ I murmured, remembering my mom’s instructions.

Lena nodded. ‘You don’t have to handle all of this at once,’ she said, like she was reading my mind.

‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘For …’ I waved my hand around, hoping to capture everything she was doing for me.

‘Any time,’ she said. ‘You know, there’s an awful lot that’s not in those notes, Jessie. If you ever feel like telling me what you got up to on that road trip, I’m all ears.’

I laughed. ‘Maybe one day.’

She sipped her vividly green drink. ‘I’ll hold you to that,’ she said, grinning at me over the rim of the cup.

It turned out I wasn’t allowed to see Brooke on my own – we had to have a chaperone, as per the agreement between Lena, my social worker and Brooke’s parents.

I guessed that was because the last time anyone had seen the two of us together, she had been holding a gun to my head.

I couldn’t blame them for being apprehensive, even if it was annoying.

Brooke came to Lena’s house, and Lena sat in an armchair in her living room, with her fat ginger cat on her lap, reading a book, and generally trying to make herself invisible.

I answered the door and stared at her for what felt like forever.

‘Hi.’

‘Hey.’

I opened my mouth, then closed it again. ‘I wasn’t sure if you’d want to see me,’ I said eventually.

‘Jessie, I’ve been asking to see you every day since I got back.’

‘You have?’ I said as my stomach did an impressive somersault. I pressed my hand to my belly, hoping to quiet my nerves.

‘Yeah,’ Brooke said with a tentative smile.

‘Me too.’

Brooke was wearing black jeans that were ripped at the knees and a baggy black tank and white sneakers. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, and I could tell she was wearing a little mascara. She was perfect, like always.

Her eyes asked me a question, and I answered by stepping forward, then stumbling into her arms. She wrapped me up in safety and security and I put my head on her shoulder and let myself breathe .

‘I really fucking missed you,’ she murmured into my hair.

It had been three weeks, meaning we’d been apart longer than we had been on the road together, and something about that just didn’t add up in my brain. The road trip had been such a turning point in my life. It still didn’t feel real that it was over.

‘I missed you too,’ I said, taking another second to hold her before I pulled away. ‘You better come inside.’

‘This place is beautiful,’ Brooke said as she kicked off her sneakers and followed me into the living room.

‘This is Lena,’ I said. ‘She painted pretty much everything.’

‘Pretty much,’ Lena echoed. ‘Nice to meet you, Brooke.’

‘Thanks for letting me come over.’

We curled up in the love seat underneath the window, facing each other with our feet tucked up so we could get in close.

It took me a moment of just looking at her before I found my words.

‘What happened? Are you okay?’

The question was way too big and way too vague, but I didn’t know what else to ask.

‘I’m living with my uncle Tony,’ she said with a shy smile.

My eyes widened. ‘Really?’

‘Yeah. I spoke with my parents, and they agreed it was probably for the best. Over the summer, at least, while we figure it all out.’

‘They just agreed to it, no arguments?’

‘No,’ Brooke said. I reached for her hand and smoothed my thumb over the inside of her wrist. ‘There was a lot of shouting. As soon as Tony found out I was back, he came over to the house and then he yelled at my dad for a really long time. Then he came upstairs and told me to pack a bag.’

‘I think I like Uncle Tony,’ I murmured.

‘I do too,’ she said with a little laugh. ‘He’s a lot more easy-going than my parents. He’s going to get me working on cars again.’

That was probably going to help her heal just as much as any other type of therapy, and I felt another rush of gratefulness that Brooke had an uncle Tony to help her get through this.

‘That’s good,’ I said. ‘It’ll be good for you.’

‘I think so too.’

Brooke turned her hand over, and I started drawing little patterns across her palm with my fingertip.

‘What happened,’ she started hesitantly, ‘after they split us up? In Atlanta?’

I swallowed, taking a second before I answered her.

‘I had to tell the police what had happened. To the Creep.’

‘God, Jessie.’

I’d thought a lot about whether I should be honest with her, if I ever had the chance. In the end, I’d decided lying to her wouldn’t be good for us in the long run.

‘They said I was only ever a person of interest,’ I said, not looking up to meet her eyes. ‘They never actually thought I did it.’

‘That’s good,’ she said gently.

‘It is?’ I asked.

She used her knuckle to tilt my chin up. Her big, brown eyes were filled with empathy.

‘Yes,’ she said simply. ‘I’m glad that whole chapter is over.’

‘You don’t … blame me? For everything you went through?’

I didn’t know how else to say it – to try to encapsulate all that had happened in those eleven days we were together in the Mustang, and how it had all ended.

‘No. I thought you’d blame me.’

‘What for?’ I exclaimed.

‘Taking you out of the city,’ she said with a wince. ‘When you could’ve stayed here and cleared everything up really quickly.’

‘That wasn’t your fault,’ I said, shaking my head.

‘And what happened wasn’t your fault, either.’

I couldn’t quite wrap my head around that. Brooke hadn’t done anything wrong. And she didn’t blame me, either. All of a sudden, a huge weight lifted from my shoulders. I turned my hand over again and squeezed hers, hoping to communicate all the gratitude I felt.

‘Oh, so, guess what I found out?’ Brooke asked, easily changing the subject.

‘What?’ I replied.

‘You remember Chris and Ashley?’

‘Yes. They haunt my nightmares, actually.’ I could joke about it, but it was true. I’d woken up in a cold sweat more than once, dreaming that they were still chasing us.

‘The FBI caught up with them. They were charged with abduction, drug trafficking, possession of stolen goods, the fucking motherload.’

‘Oh my God. How do you know that?’

‘I called Daniel,’ she said. ‘I thought he was going to yell at me, too, but he said he’d been really worried, and that if Tony hadn’t come to get me, he would’ve taken me in himself.’

‘Your brother?’ I asked. Brooke had barely mentioned him, apart from the fact he was studying Law at Harvard.

‘He’s a good guy,’ she said, watching the movement of my thumb across her skin. ‘Anyway, he dug into it for me and found out what had happened to them.’

‘Wow.’ It took me a second to process. ‘How … are you feeling about all of that?’

‘Good. Fucking elated, actually. They’re not getting out, Jessie. They won’t get away with it.’

‘Thank God.’

‘I know. And, I got a therapist.’

I squeezed her hand. ‘A good one?’

‘A really good one,’ she said with a sweet smile. She reached up and tucked my hair behind my ear. ‘I’m doing better.’

‘I’m really glad,’ I murmured.

I thought Brooke might kiss me then, but Lena was still pretending to read her book, so she didn’t.

‘I bought you something,’ I said, and reached behind the couch to grab the brown paper bag.

I let myself study her expression for a second before handing it over.

Lena didn’t let me go out by myself that much, and, besides, her neighborhood wasn’t that well connected by bus routes. She didn’t mind taking me places, though, as long as she didn’t have a piano student coming over.

Going back to Goodwill and thrift stores felt comforting in a way I’d probably have to explain to my own therapist at some point.

I’d figured out the magic formula to how things were arranged in thrift stores, and even though I only got a tiny allowance, being a foster kid and all, I liked being able to pick whatever I wanted and know I could probably afford it.

I had found Graceland when we’d driven into Seattle for the day. It was hidden in a stack of eclectic cassettes and had cost me three dollars and fifty cents, and even though I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to see Brooke again, I’d bought it anyway.

‘Oh my God, Jessie.’ She laughed when she pulled it out of the bag. Then her eyes started watering.

‘Don’t cry,’ I said immediately.

‘I’m not crying.’ She pushed the tears away from her eyes before they smudged her mascara. ‘You’re the sweetest person I’ve ever met, I swear.’

After so long thinking Brooke would never even look in my direction, her reaction made me want to cry too. Girls like me never got the girl they had a crush on, except I did, and I really didn’t know how to feel except so grateful, and so in love with her.

I let Brooke pull me into an awkward hug – we couldn’t get close enough on the love seat with elbows and knees between us. She reached for my hand as I pulled away and linked our fingers together loosely.

‘I haven’t got the Mustang back yet,’ she said.

I frowned. ‘Where is it?’

‘Still in Atlanta.’

‘Why?’ I said hotly. ‘They can’t just keep it.’

Brooke laughed. ‘I agree. We’ve been trying to get it shipped back, but there’s some bureaucracy holding it up. Tony keeps calling them, so hopefully it won’t be long.’

‘You’ll have to find a Walkman or something. To listen to the tape.’

‘I’m sure Tony has one somewhere. That sounds like the kind of thing he’d hang on to.’ She squeezed my hand. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered.

I thought there was something poetic about Brooke searching for a land where she’d find grace.

That had made me even more determined to get the cassette tape for her – I’d wanted to be the one who helped her find it.

A few years ago, I’d underlined a passage on grace in one of the books I’d been given at church: it was the divine strength to endure trial and resist temptation.

We’d done a lot of enduring and not a lot of resisting while we’d been together, and despite everything we’d been through, I was sure I’d come closer to finding grace with Brooke than I ever had before.

Promises for the future were hard when everyone was scrutinizing us from every angle, waiting for us to rebel and detonate like fireworks. They treated us gently, carefully, like we were explosive. I knew I’d see Brooke again, though. After everything that had happened, they couldn’t keep us apart.

She kissed me goodbye on Lena’s front porch, wrapped in the thick scent of magnolia blossoms carried to us on humid air.

I watched her climb into a taxi to go back to her uncle’s house, the paper bag with the cassette clutched safe in her hand, and Lena found me there much later, still leaning against the railing with the front door wide open.

I stayed on the porch to watch the sun set, the pinks and oranges bleeding into the night sky, until the stars blinked out and I was ready to go back inside.