Page 36 of You Belong Here

A scream echoed through the basement, sending every nerve in my body into overdrive. My heart raced, vision blurred.

For a moment, I thought my mind was pushed to the brink, playing a cruel trick on me. And then the room focused down to a point. To her.

“Delilah?” I called, rushing down the last few basement steps, making sure this girl sitting in the middle of the floor wasn’t a mirage.

Her eyes were wide, mouth hanging open from the scream—

“Mom?” she said, hand to her chest.

I crossed the room in three quick strides, knees hitting the ground hard beside her. I wrapped her in my arms.

“Oh my God,” I said. My entire body was shaking with relief. She was real, and solid, and here. “You’re okay.” I said it for myself as much as for her. A mantra I kept repeating in my head, over and over.

But Delilah’s body felt stiff in my arms, every muscle tensed.

I pulled back slightly to take her in. Her large blue eyes were frozen in shock. A faint scratch marred her cheekbone, raised and pink. Her dark hair was wet, and the shoulders of the gray shirt—one of my old concert tees from the early 2000s—were damp and dark.

She smelled of shampoo and soap, like she’d just taken a shower, rummaged through the drawers upstairs, and changed into whatever she could find.

I still had my hands on her shoulders, and I worried I was hurting her. I worried someone else had hurt her. “What happened?”

“Mom?” she asked, like she was trying to calibrate. Her mouth was slightly open, lips pale and chapped in sections. “What are you doing here?” Her voice was raw, cracking at the end of the question.

“You called me,” I said, words spilling out. “You called me in the middle of the night, and the line went dead, but I thought I heard you. I heard the wind—”

Her eyes widened even more. “You came?”

“Of course I came. I couldn’t reach you. I left you a bunch of messages but…” I shook my head, then laughed once in relief. “Your dad is here, too. He’s out right now, searching the woods.”

Delilah’s mouth twitched like she wanted to smile, or like she couldn’t quite believe it. I ran my thumb under the scratch on her face, and she flinched.

“Where were you?” I asked. “What happened?”

She sucked in a gulp of air, like I’d finally broken through, dragged her back to the here and now.

“Mom, I was lost. I was so lost. ” Then she let out a shaky breath, fell forward into my arms, her entire body trembling.

“I couldn’t find the way out.” I felt her words vibrating against my collarbone.

“Okay,” I said, feeling her warm breath against my shoulder, tears of either fear or relief dampening my shirt. “You’re here now. You’re safe.”

“I was in the woods…” She pulled back, eyes shiny, gaze drifting to the side.

Something she couldn’t find the words to explain.

But that was the benefit of growing up here.

She didn’t have to explain it to me. I knew what happened during the howling, and I’d seen the mask left behind at Cryer’s Quarry.

“I know,” I said. I nodded, urging her on.

Her eyes slid back to mine. “I took a wrong turn somewhere. I was way too deep in…” She shook her head. “I dropped my phone somewhere out there. And I was scared to go look for it. To go anywhere at all.”

Trevor was right to search the woods. Of course he was right.

“It’s okay,” I said, gripping her around the wrists, holding her here. Proving to myself, over and over, that this was real. That I had her.

“Do you remember this summer in the canyons, when we camped at the river,” she began, voice dropped to a whisper, “when it was so dark at night, and the water sounded like it was coming from everywhere?”

“Yes,” I whispered back. That night I had dreamed of the water rising, our tents flooding, of all the ways I didn’t know how to keep her safe—

“They told us not to leave the campsite,” she said, her eyes staring directly into mine. “Not for anything. Not until daylight.”

“I remember,” I said. They had stressed that the biggest danger was in becoming disoriented, heading the wrong way. Walking straight into the thing you were trying to avoid.

I could see the pieces sliding into place before she even said it. I saw her in the dark, slumped against a tree, curling up on the cool ground—

“I waited for the sun to come up,” she said. “It took all day to find my way back.” She swallowed, raised her trembling hand to her mouth. “I didn’t have my phone.” All that time while I was out looking for her, and she was trying to find her way home.

“You did so well,” I said. “You must’ve been so scared.” I pulled her tight again, didn’t want to let go, felt her arms gripping around my back. She seemed to have nothing on her but the carabiner she used as a clip for her keys, currently sprawled on the basement floor beside us.

I’d been trying to hold it together for so long, and now the relief left my body in a choked sob, tears running down my face. I had her. I had her .

“I didn’t know you were here,” she whispered, her breath brushing against my ear. “I didn’t know anyone was looking—”

And then her body tensed.

I looked up. Maggie stood halfway down the steps, hand to her mouth, phone hanging at her side. “The police are on the way,” she said. “I called for help.”

I felt myself laughing in relief—another release, as I wiped the tears from my eyes. Of course she did. But at least she saved me a call.

“Delilah, this is Maggie,” I said, smiling. Then I stood and reached a hand down for her. “Come on. Let’s go upstairs.”

I heard the siren on its way as I paced the living room, trying to reach Trevor. Finally the call connected.

“Beckett—” he began, voice in a panic, like he’d been trying to reach me, too. He must’ve been trying when I was downstairs. The cell service in the basement was terrible through the layers of concrete.

“I have her!” I shouted, cutting him off.

“What?” A pause, and I worried I’d lost him again. But then he was back. “Where? Where are you?”

She watched me from the couch, where she was curled up in the corner. I couldn’t help the smile spreading across my face.

“Trevor, she’s safe! We’re at the house! Come home.”

I waited on the porch for the police to arrive, so they would know there was no danger inside. As the cruiser pulled up, the couple next door emerged, drawn by the flashing lights. A young officer with red hair and a strong jaw stepped out from the vehicle, moving quickly toward the house.

“It’s Delilah,” I said. “She’s okay.” I said it loud enough for the neighbors to hear, too. I knew it wouldn’t take long for word to spread here.

The officer frowned at me from the sidewalk. “We got a call for an intruder at this address,” he said in a deep local accent that made me think his family had been here for generations.

I shook my head. “We didn’t know it was her. She was in the basement.”

“She was here the whole time?” he asked, head tilted to the side. A patch with the name Fritz was adhered to his uniform.

“No, she was lost in the woods. She just made it back.”

Officer Fritz followed me inside, where Delilah sat on the couch beside Maggie. A tall glass of water was on the coffee table, untouched. The only movement came from the constant fidgeting of Delilah’s hands, now absently picking at the dirt stuck under her short nails.

“I ordered pizza,” Maggie said, standing. “She’s hungry.”

“Thank you,” I said. I was so grateful Maggie was here, that she could think straight, act rationally.

I’d felt guilt at the state of our friendship, but now I was thrilled to have her.

I’d been so relieved to have Delilah back, I hadn’t thought about what else she’d need.

All I’d cared about was that she was safe.

“Delilah Bowery?” Officer Fritz asked, standing at the entrance of the living room.

She nodded from the corner of the couch.

“No one else is here?” he asked, eyes scanning the foyer, the hallway.

“Just us,” I said.

He nodded and stepped back outside, but he didn’t leave. I could hear him through the screen door, talking on his radio. Like he was calling it in, explaining the situation.

Delilah dropped her head into her hands, damp hair swaying forward. “God, this is so embarrassing. I can’t believe everyone knows .”

She was so young—she might not have realized how close she had come to tragedy. How easy it was to get lost forever out there. How quickly one could disappear.

“Don’t be silly,” I said, sitting beside her on the old blue sofa, cushions shifting under my weight so that her body leaned into mine.

I put an arm around her shoulders. “Everyone’s just glad you’re okay.

” I rubbed her shoulder, then squeezed her upper arm, and her body abruptly contorted, hunching over in pain.

She held her elbow in her other hand, but she let me extend her arm so I could see. A deep purple bruise had bloomed on the side of her left arm, inches above the elbow.

I sucked in a breath as she pulled back, tugging her sleeve lower—not quite covering the mark. “I think it was a tree branch,” she said. “I didn’t know it was that bad.”

I pictured her running through the night, twigs swiping across her face, branch catching her as she tripped forward, hands bracing for impact in the dirt—

“We should ice it,” I began as the sound of footsteps racing up the porch cut through the night. I stood, hearing voices rising out front. “Excuse me, that’s my daughter in there—”

And then Trevor threw open the screen door, maneuvering himself past the officer in the entryway. He was breathing heavily, eyes wide, his entire body on edge. Something wild thrumming in the air between us.

He saw me first, our eyes latching. I nodded quickly, watched as his gaze slid to the couch.

“Oh my God,” he said, crossing the room in quick strides before falling onto the sofa beside her. He had Delilah in his arms then, eyes closed, a shudder as her head fell into the space between his chin and shoulder.

He reached a hand out for me, as if the last few hours of searching in the dark had shaken him to the core, too. I laced my fingers with his, joining them on the couch.

“Oh my God, Dad?” she said. “I can’t believe you’re here.” And he laughed, letting that feeling of relief flood through the room.

There was a knock at the screen door then, and Maggie cleared her throat. “I’ll get it.”

I knew we were causing a scene on the street, imagined more neighbors coming out, coming over, wanting to know what was happening.

I let the relief wash over me, wanting to stay in this feeling forever.

A man stepped into the foyer—my eyes trailed up from his black boots and black slacks to his blue button-down and sport coat. Fred Mayhew, in the same clothes he’d worn earlier in the day. His boots echoed on the hardwood flooring.

“You must be Delilah,” he said from the entrance of the room with a gentle smile.

Trevor released her then, so the three of us were sitting in a row on the couch, looking up at the detective.

“We sure are relieved to see you,” Detective Mayhew said, lowering himself into the wingback chair across the coffee table. “You gave us all quite the scare.”

“I didn’t know anyone was looking,” she repeated softly, like she was in trouble.

But he waved her off. “Fred Mayhew,” he continued. “I’m with the Wyatt Valley PD. Just wanted to set eyes on you for myself, make sure everything’s okay.”

“She’s okay,” I said, wondering if Officer Fritz had relayed the details accurately.

“She was lost. All night.” I felt the lump in my throat growing, imagining the long night she must’ve spent out there, alone.

But also: a spark of pride. She hadn’t waited to be found.

She’d taken action. Played it smart. Made sure she didn’t make the situation worse.

Then navigated her way back out of the wilderness. Made it home safely to us.

Mayhew whistled once, long and drawn out. I saw him taking her in: the cut on her cheek, the bruise on her arm. Dirt under her nails from a night spent on the ground.

He leaned forward, laced his hands together; silver wedding ring catching the light from the standing lamp.

“I know how it can be out there at night. You think you know where you are, and then you’re out of range, the maps on your cell stop working, and you can’t orient yourself.

Even emergency services can be tough to reach. ”

She nodded once. “I lost my phone in the dark.”

He smiled, then widened his eyes. “I can barely find my way to work without my phone. And I go there every day.”

That got a grin out of her.

He placed his hands on his knees like he was about to stand, then paused. “Where’d you end up finding your way back out?”

She reached for the glass of water. The cup trembled faintly in her hand as she raised it to her mouth, taking a sip. I wanted to reach out and steady it for her. “I don’t even know,” she said. “I kept heading down until I could hear a road.”

I put my hand on her back, imagining that moment. The panic of trees and mountains as far as you could see, and then—signs of civilization, that immense wave of relief.

“I recognized the street. I came straight here. I wasn’t even thinking.” She cut her eyes to me. “I didn’t realize anyone even knew I was gone.”

Detective Mayhew finally stood, then took a deep breath.

“Eventually this will be a good story you can tell your friends. We might have some follow-up questions later. But I’m sure right now you just want a good night’s rest in a warm bed.

” He rocked back on his heels. “You gave us all quite a scare, kid.” Then he winked in my direction. “Guess I’ll be seeing you around.”