The Complete Irreparable Boxed Set

For the next several minutes that was all they talked about, excitedly speculating about the situation and trying to pry more details out of her. She felt like they viewed her experience like an episode of Law and Order, and that pissed her off. When she couldn’t take anymore, she told them she needed to go take a long, hot shower, and the two older women exchanged looks. Her mom nodded slightly and Ashlynn asked if she could talk to her for a moment alone; Willow was pretty sure she knew what was coming.

Back in her youth—long, long ago—Ashlynn had worked on a volunteer basis with some rape crisis center. Being that Willow was a girl, essentially sold—at least she thought?—to a brothel-owner after being held by criminals for several days and rescued in terribly scanty clothing, it was not at all outside the realm of logic to wonder if she had been raped. Every girl in that room with Willow had been raped—the main reason, she suspected, that the police officer had looked slightly confused when she insisted that she hadn’t.

Just thinking about it made her want to throw up, and she didn’t have it in her to go through that for the second time in one night.

“I’d really rather not, not tonight,” Willow said, shaking her head. “I’m fine, I just want a shower.”

Turning to head up the stairs, she barely made it to the top before she heard footsteps behind her. Sighing irritably, she went into her room, pausing for a moment to look at it, just as she’d left it. Tears welled up behind her eyes and she didn’t even know why, but she ignored them, walking over to her dresser and pulling out clothes to change into.

Ashlynn paused i

n the doorway, her long salt and pepper brown hair pulled into a low pony tail, hanging over her shoulder. Her brown eyes bore the distinct look of concern.

“I need to talk to you before you get into the shower, honey.”

“I’m all talked out, Ashlynn.”

Technically, Ashlynn was like a mother to her; she had been with Lauren since Willow was four, but she didn’t refer to Ashlynn that way.

“Honey… I just… please sit down with me for a minute.”

Willow closed her eyes for a moment, her back still to Ashlynn, and searched for the strength to do it all over again. Her concerns were understandable, but Willow needed her to just leave it alone. In an attempt to put them off, she insisted she would talk the next day, but she knew she wouldn’t—not about that.

Even Willow couldn’t figure out how to feel about it, and she had been the one who endured all of it.

“I can’t help noticing you didn’t need to go to the hospital after you left the police station.”

“Nope,” Willow said simply. “Uninjured. No need.”

“If they hurt you while you were there, it’s best to go to the doctor before you take a shower. I know you just want to scrub everything away and climb into bed, but… if you decide later—”

“I don’t need to go to the hospital, Ashlynn. I’m completely fine, I’m just dirty and tired and I saw a woman be murdered tonight, so I really just want to get clean and try to get some sleep.”

Ashlynn hesitated, then said, “If you were hurt a shower will probably wash away the evidence.”

“I wasn’t,” Willow insisted. “Now please, let me take a shower.”

“If you were though, you know you know it wasn’t your fault, right?”

“Yes,” she said shortly.

“Even if… if it was more than one, especially then—”

“Ashlynn!” Willow interrupted, her eyes widening. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

Ashlynn looked a bit wounded, but she went on, “If they did though, they deserve to be punished. You know that, right?”

That was the question that held her up. The other responses had been simple, tossed out there without having to run them through her brain first; she had been prepared for those questions.

After a hesitation that lasted far too long, Willow managed a nod. “Yeah, I know,” she said with decidedly less hostility. “I do. I’m just tired, okay?”

“If you ever need… to talk to me, you have my confidence. I won’t even tell your mother if you don’t want me to.”

“I appreciate that,” Willow said, and she meant it, even if she didn’t have the energy to convey sincerity in that moment.

“And if you did want to go to the hospital—just to be safe—you could change your mind later. Going to the hospital doesn’t mean you have to pursue it, but… tonight is your best—maybe your only—shot at physical evidence if you decide you do have something else to report.”

“I’m fine,” Willow said again, shoving her dresser drawer shut.