then I had to do everything alone. I didn’t see the point in getting too close to anyone, because people leave. That’s what they do.
But Jake is here now. I walk forward and slide my hand down his arm and find his hand. “Thank you.” I squeeze his fingers.
“For what?”
“For not giving up on me.”
“Bec.” He laughs, his voice projecting skyward. “I’ve never given up on you. Not then, not now. Not ever.”
I want to ask what will happen when all of this is over. Will I see him again? Will we be those exes who get coffee once a year? The thought of him being removed from my life is agonizing. I haven’t even gotten to enjoy his company. It’s just been one crazy moment after the next.
“Will I see you after this?” I ask.
He steps closer to me. His body radiates heat, just a foot away. “I’m not going anywhere.” He says the words, and I wish I could believe him. But he’s a detective. I know the odds of staying safe in a job like his.
“You don’t know that,” I say.
He scratches his jaw. “You’re right. I don’t know that. But I do know I’m not leaving you again. I shouldn’t have left all those years ago. And I’m certainly not going to leave now.”
“Jake, Rebecca.” Toby approaches, his steps quick. “Crystal wants to confess something.”
“I don’t want to talk to her.”
“Bec, we really need to make this official. If she’s got something else to say, it could help,” Jake offers.
“I don’t want to see her.” I say it again, more adamantly.
“Look, we can’t book her unless you decide to press charges or she confesses. The choice is yours,” Toby offers.
The choice is yours.
That common phrase bounces around my head. I take a few steps away, turn back, waver. I’m not sure I want her booked, but I sure as hell don’t want to go back in and listen to one more second of what she has to say. In the span of a few days, I’ve gotten my son back, but I’ve lost three people. A best friend, a child I adore like my own, and Oliver. “Do I really have a choice?” I ask.
Jake sighs. “Not really.”
I nod. Toby holds the automatic door open long enough for all three of us to pass through. I walk back through the station, for what feels like the millionth time in a few days. Jake opens the door for me, and I sink back into the hard, metal chair across from my ex-friend, both hands resting protectively over my sleeping son.
“What is it you have to confess?”
But it’s not Crystal’s voice I hear: it’s Savi’s.
“Hi, Ms. Rebecca.”
I lean back in surprise and close my eyes. No, no, no. I don’t want to hear this.
“Go ahead, sweetheart.” Crystal urges Savi in a stern but kind voice, but I don’t need her to talk. I already know some version of what she’s going to say.
“I just wanted my mom to be happy again.” Her voice is tiny, and I can tell she’s twisting something in her hands. “Oliver was always crying, and Mom never wanted to be at home. And Jackson is such a good baby. He never cries. So, I thought…” Her voice fades and I can hear her swallow. I resist the urge to bang on the glass behind me and request some water. “I just wanted to fix the problem.”
The simplicity of a child’s mind slams into focus: everything is black and white, cause and effect. The air bolts from my lungs. I realize what Crystal has been doing this whole time. It’s not lying to everyone—it’s protecting her daughter.
“I knew you liked to go to Wilder,” Savi continues. “I always wanted to go there too, but Mom didn’t want the baby going where you were. She didn’t want you to know. She didn’t want anyone to know. It was our little secret. And Pam’s.”
My gut twists at all the wicked ways to mess up a child, but I stay silent.
“And what happened that day at the park?” Crystal asks softly.
“I don’t want to tell,” she says.
“Savi. You have to. It’s time to tell the truth. The real truth.”
My breath swirls inside my chest until I feel light-headed. I vacillate between wanting to hear the truth and run from the room.
“Am I going to get in trouble?” she asks.
Crystal doesn’t say anything, and finally, I speak up. “No, you’re not,” I say. “But you need to tell