No one was wearing handcuffs or being read their rights, so Orion guessed they weren’t getting charged with the murder of Thing Two. That was probably not the kind of story Clark County wanted hitting the national news.
“Sooo, what now?” Jaclyn asked the second she sat down. Orion knew she had intended to sound carefree, flippant, but there was something in her voice. A crack.
Orion knew it because she felt that same crack rippling at her foundation.
They’d spent so many years plotting, dreaming of escape, that they never really understood how it was just a different kind of nightmare than captivity. There were the questions. The people who you used to know. The parents who were really strangers.
And then there was the reality for Jaclyn and Orion. The abyss.
No family to speak of.
No possessions other than their cheap hoodies and emotional scars.
Had they been declared dead?
Were they really even alive? Was she really a person or just another statistic?
Orion didn’t feel human.
Maddox cleared his throat, jerking his gaze from Orion. She’d been staring at the wall above his head.
“We have you in the hotel for the rest of the week,” he explained. “We will probably have to go over some more statements, and Mr. Del Rio is still evading capture, so we’ll have to keep a close eye on you guys until we catch him. And we’ll have plenty of uniforms looking out for you . . .” He trailed off.
“Then?” Jaclyn demanded. “We get another batch of Walmart clothes, a pat on the back, and it’s see you later, or until the fuck we let get away comes and finishes what he started?” There was anger in her tone. Fury. Hatred. Not at Maddox himself, but since life wasn’t a person, there was no one they could blame, not in this room anyway. So he was as good a target as any.
“There’s already a GoFundMe for you girls,” Eric interjected, his voice calm. He seemed to read the confusion on their faces, and continued, “It’s a new fundraiser thing on the internet where people come together to raise money for a cause,” he explained. “You already have a lot of people who want to help, send you what they can. You’ll be well taken care of. As I said, down the road, the county is going to work on a really nice settlement for you all.”
Orion rolled her eyes and didn’t try to swallow her scoff. “A cause . . .” She didn’t structure it as a question. Didn’t say anything to follow it. Just left the two words hanging there. An accusation. A warning, maybe.
“Your story has resonated with people,” Eric said, careful with his tone, his expression. This man had read what each woman needed. Gentle for Shelby. Not too much eye contact. Slightly submissive, placating to Jaclyn. Strong, sure with Orion.
“This is a new world you’re being thrust into,” he continued. “A world where news like this . . . it becomes a life in and of itself. We’re more connected than the two of you remember.” He nodded toward Orion and Jaclyn. “News travels like wildfire these days. People will be fascinated. They’ll want to help in any way they can. They will want to see you. Reporters like today will follow you.” He glanced to Shelby. “I’m not saying this to scare you, I just want you to know that you won’t be forgotten. And that you have so many people here to support you through this transition.”
Transition. Orion scoffed, but she bit her tongue. More like a nightmare.
“Ri—Orion, can I speak with you?” Maddox asked after it had been declared the interviews were over for the day.
Shelby had already left the room, her parents likely waiting at the door as they had been all day.
Jaclyn hung behind, not saying anything, but Orion sensed she was close to cracking. Or maybe it was Orion who was cracking. Maybe Jaclyn didn’t stray far from her because she needed someone else broken to hold her together. Or maybe it was just because neither of them had anyone waiting outside. No one to spoil them rotten and fawn over them. They only had each other.
Maddox’s eyes darted to Jaclyn. “In private.”
Jaclyn’s spine straightened and Orion knew she was getting ready to stand her ground, to square off. But there was something beyond that stubborn, aggressive glint in her eye. A shadow. A ghost of before. One that knew what happened when you stood up to men. Logic