By the time we return to the waiting room, Detective Rannali has phoned in the report and is ready to take off somewhere.
“I need to call Micha and Ella,” Lila mutters, staring into empty space, her eyes wide with fear. “Oh my God, what am I supposed to say to them?”
“I can do it,” Ethan offers, retrieving his phone from his pocket.
“The Scotts are already informed of what’s going on,” Detective Rannali tells us as he picks up his suit jacket from a chair and slips it on.
“How were they already informed?” I match his stride as he takes off for the exit. “Did you just call them? What did they say?”
“They called the station about five minutes ago and reported a break in at their house,” he says as the doors glide open. “I’m headed to their house now.”
“Do you . . . Do know if Lyric’s okay?” I ask as we step outside and head for his car.
“I’m not sure. I think they’re still trying to detain the person who broke in.”
“It’s my dad.” I smash my lips together as guilt crushes my chest. “The text said son.”
He slams to a halt in the middle of the parking lot. “Ayden, you should probably stay here and wait for Sadie to get out of surgery.”
I shake my head. “There is no fucking way I’m going to stay here until I know Lyric’s okay.” I want to be here for my sister, but I’ll be useless until I’m one hundred percent certain Lyric’s okay. “Lila and Ethan can stay here just in case she gets out before I get back. I need to go with you.” More than I’ve ever needed anything in my entire life.
Detective Rannali glances back at the hospital, then sighs. “Fine, you can ride with me.”
The drive to Lyric’s house is long and painful. I’m so wound up that I half expect my heart to give out on the way there.
When we pull up into the neighborhood, flashing red and blue lights are lighting up the entire block.
Detective Rannali parks the car as close to the house as he can get, then he turns off the engine and reaches for the door. “Stay here until—”
I barrel out of the car before he can finish.
“Ayden, wait!” Detective Rannali shouts after me as I run for Lyric’s house.
I weave past cop cars and neighbors who’ve gathered around to watch the scene. Officers have formed a small line and are trying to keep everyone back, so I veer left and duck through an unguarded area near the fence line.
I’m not sure where to go, so I head for the back door. Right as I reach the steps, two officers exit the house, hauling out a middle-aged man in handcuffs.
He has the same eyes and hair color as me, his face recognizable from the memory. “Let me go. I didn’t do anything wrong,” he spats to the officers. “You’re the ones who are wrong, for stopping me.” He’s walking awkwardly, like it’s painful to move his legs, and his face and eyes are swollen, like someone beat the crap out of him.
I grind to a halt as fear and rage storm through me. “Where is she?” I growl.
“Kid, you can’t be here,” one of officers warns me, gently pushing me to stay back.
I follow them as they drag my father down the driveway and to a police vehicle. “You better not have done anything to her!” I shout.
“I was never planning on doing anything to her. It was supposed to be you. Your soul needs the cleansing. Not mine. I’ve cleansed my soul many, many times.” His smile expands as he ducks his head and the officer forces him into the backseat. “I thought you could use Sadie. That her death could cleanse her soul, but then I heard you and Lyric say you loved each other for the first time, and I knew Sadie couldn’t be your sacrifice. It had to be Lyric.”
I fucking hate hearing him say her name, but taking in his words is even worse. The only way he could’ve heard Lyric and I say I love you for the first time is if he was either in the bedroom with us, or he bugged the room. Either option is equally as sickening, and it takes every ounce of strength I possess not to push the officers out of the way and strangle him.
“You’re so fucked up,” I snap, moving back as an officer steps in front of me and blocks my way.
“You need to keep back,” the officer warns, steering me away from the car.
“You’re part of me,” my dad calls out. “And don’t you ever—”
The officer slams the car door, locking my dad in the backseat. I stare at him for a second or two longer before I turn my back on him and start searching for Lyric.
I’m an erratic mess of nerves and anxiety by the time I find her parents standing near the back of an ambulance, staring inside, looking sick to death. Terror crashes through me as I run toward them and look inside the ambulance.
Lyric is inside, sitting on a stretcher, being examined by an EMT. When she sees me, her eyes light up, and she leaps to her feet, ignoring the EMT’s protests.
“I’ve never been so glad to see you in my life,” she says as she jumps into my arms and wraps her legs around me.
“Tell me you’re okay,” I beg as I clutch onto her for dear life.
She leans back to look me in the eye. “I’m fine. Just a few scratches, but it’s mostly just carpet burn.”
I carefully set her down, but only so I can examine every inch of her. She might have said she was okay, but I need to be absolutely certain. I don’t see any wounds other than a few scrapes on her legs. Her eyes are a bit swollen, but I think that might be from crying.
“Ayden, relax.” Her fingers caress my cheek, bringing my attention to her eyes. “I’m fine. I swear.”
“What happened?” I swallow hard, my voice thick with emotion.
My body starts to shake
Breathing in her words.
The truth is potent.
The truth is raw.
The truth is real.
That I could have lost her.
She sighs exhaustedly. “He snuck into my room, used my phone to text you, then I kicked the crap out of him until he let me go. I think he had bigger plans, but after about ten kicks to the balls, he could barely breathe. Then my dad came in and beat the shit out of him . . .” Her muscles stiffen and her voice drops to a whisper. “For a second, I was worried he wasn’t going to stop . . . That my dad was going to kill him.”
A sick, twisted part of me wishes that had happened. But the last thing I want is for Lyric’s dad to have blood on his hands.
“You’re so fucking strong,” I whisper, on the verge of sobbing. “And I’m so sorry you had to go through that—through any of this.”
“Don’t be sorry,” she says firmly. “Just be glad, okay. That’s all you need to be right now.”
“About what?”
“That it’s over.”
It takes a moment for the full impact of her words to sink in. Then I pull her against me, promising myself I’ll never let her go again.
AFTER MY FATHER IS ARRESTED, the police spend the next day ransacking the Scott’s and my house for any hidden cameras and recording devices. They find a few in Lyric’s room and in my room. The idea that he was watching us makes me sick to my stomach, but like with everything else, it’s something I just have to work on getting past.
As the rest of the week goes by, things slowly start to return to normal. Lyric and I spend most of our time attached at the hip, working on songs and simply relaxing, something we haven’t been able to do in a while.
“You’re staring again,” she says to me while we’re lounging around in her bed.
Her shirt is rolled up and her long legs are tangled with mine as we work on a new song. A little Nirvana is playing from the stereo, which brings back memories of the first day I met her. We also have all the windows open, mostly because we feel safe enough to have them open, and a warm summer breeze is blowing into the room.
“I’m sorry,” I say, sounding very unapologetic. “I guess it’s the song. It reminds me of the first day I met you and how I couldn’t stop staring.”
Her lips twitch with amusement. “Aw, the staring days
. How can I forget those?”
“I was such a weirdo. Who knows why you became friends with me.”
“Um, hello, because I’m a weirdo too. And as a fellow weirdo, your weirdoness barely fazed me.”
I chuckle. “Well, I’m glad.”
We grow quiet as we listen to the song, and my thoughts drift to everything that’s happened over the last couple of years.
So much bad has existed in my life, yet there’s been so much good stuff. Sometimes I got so lost in the bad that I couldn’t see all the good, but I don’t want that to be the case anymore. I want to experience my life. Breathe in every good moment.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Lyric whispers as she scoots closer to me.
“I’m thinking about how much you mean to me and how great you’ve made my life.” I set down the pen I’m holding so I can drape my arm over her side. “And how I never want to lose you. How I want to spend the rest of my life experiencing good stuff with you to make up for all the bad things we’ve been through.”
She chews on the end of her pen, a pucker forming between her brows. “That sounds nice. Really, really nice. And I hope it happens. I hope we get to spend a lot of time with each other doing all sorts of crazy things.”
“It’ll definitely happen.” I smooth my thumb between her brows. “What’s with the worried look?”
Hesitancy masks her expression. “I was thinking about your sister, actually . . . You’re going to see her today, right?”
I nod, glancing at the clock. “I’ll probably have to leave pretty soon.”
I’ve visited Sadie a couple of times over the last few days, but every time I go there, she’s asleep. The doctors say she doesn’t sleep very well, so no one’s supposed to disturb her when she’s out.
Lyric sits up, pulling me with her, then crisscrosses her legs. “Do you know what you’re going to say to her if you get to talk to her today?”
I shake my head, closing my notebook. “I’ve gone over it in my head for years, what it was going to be like when I saw her again. I just never pictured it being in this kind of situation.”
“I’m sure you’ll do great.” She gives my hand a reassuring squeeze. “And I think Sadie will probably just be happy to see you.”