When Darkness Ends (Moments in Boston #3) - Marni Mann Page 0,98

for dessert, thinking there was ice cream in the freezer. But when I got back, I looked, and I guess we’d eaten it all last night.”

“I’ll run down to the bodega in a little bit. Ice cream or cupcakes?”

I wanted her to continue making decisions, to build back the control she had lost, even if each step was small and the decisions were minor.

She lifted the pot of pasta and drained the water in the sink. “Cupcakes.” She paused. “Yep, cupcakes.” She scooped a pile of noodles onto two plates before covering it with the simmering sauce.

Since I didn’t have a dining table, she joined me on the other side of the bar, and we began to eat.

“Pearl …” I groaned, the garlic she’d added to the onions and peppers making the sauce so rich and delicious. “This is amazing.”

“Thank you.”

I put my hand on her back, causing her to look at me. “No, it’s really, really amazing.”

Her eyes lightened even more. “It makes me happy to hear that.” She took a bite of her bread and slowly set it down, twisting the paper napkin in her hands. “I want to talk to you about something.” She cleared her throat. “It’s something I discussed in therapy today.” She wiped her mouth with the napkin and then twirled it through her fingers. “I know you mentioned no one would be coming over here, giving me the space I need to heal, but this is your home, and I don’t want you to feel like a guest. If you want to bring your friends over, a girlfriend, whomever, I will support it.”

Marlene had thought it was important for Pearl to hear about the events that had led to capturing Little, so over the course of several weeks, we had addressed Dylan’s death, letting that news gradually unravel in Pearl’s head. There were several ugly moments and a setback—she felt as though she had lost everyone she loved. But we made it through, and when we were able to move on to other topics, I described what had led to me walking into her cell that night. During those conversations, I had told her I’d dropped out of med school and joined the academy to find her, but we hadn’t discussed my personal life aside from the fact that I lived alone.

Marlene had told me that even conversations between Pearl and me needed to have the right pacing in order for her to process their importance and depth.

This one had been avoided for long enough.

“In the future, I might ask Rivera to come over. I know he would like to see you. And a few of the guys we hung with in college—all names and faces you would recognize. But that’s it, Pearl. There is no one else, and there’s no girlfriend.”

She lifted her fork again, diving it into the spaghetti. “I spent so much time wondering what your life looked like.” Her voice changed to an almost-raspy tone whenever she spoke about the basement. “What area of medicine you had chosen, what hospital you were working at.” She looked at me. “How many kids you might have.” A wrinkle formed between her brows, more on the sides of her lips. “I didn’t picture this.” Emotion was moving in, a storm gathering in her expression. “That you would be the one who walked through my prison door.”

I turned my body toward her, ignoring my plate. “The moment I realized you were gone, so was my love for medicine. I needed to find you, and there was only one way I knew how.” I rubbed my hands on my pants, stopping myself from reaching for her. “In my closet is a bin that’s dedicated to you. It holds all the notes I took over the years, the people I interviewed, every dead end I hit at the bus station, the hotel in New York. I even spoke to every employee who had been on that day. I documented all of it.”

Until I heard Pearl’s testimony to the police and her legal team, I hadn’t known that she had been on her way to me the morning she was kidnapped. That she had been rushing to the train station to come to my apartment when Little stopped her on the sidewalk, making up a bullshit story to lure her in.

When I had heard that, it’d made me feel even worse.

“You and Gran—that’s all I thought about,” she whispered. “You two were the only things that