“Of course.” Mom turned to look at me, the strained smile on her face almost painful to look at. She hated that he said privately, I knew. She loved nothing more than to hover around me, making sure I was all right. “Katie, come over here and talk to the nice detective.”
We ended up outside in the backyard, the sun warm upon our backs, and I wondered how Detective Green hadn’t broken out in a complete sweat yet, what with wearing his dark blue detective suit. The summer air was stifling and I wished I had something to drink.
“How are you?” he asked, his voice soft, his concern . . . genuine.
I met his gaze for the first time since he arrived. “I’m all right.”
He raised a brow. “Really?”
I shrugged. He was too perceptive. “I’m trying.”
“That’s all you can do.” He reached into his suit and withdrew a white envelope from a secret pocket he must have had in there. “I have something for you.”
He set the envelope onto the table between us and I stared at it like it was a poisonous animal about to strike. “What’s inside?”
“Open it and see.”
I grabbed the envelope and studied the unfamiliar writing. My name was on it, nothing else. I glanced up at Detective Green in question, but he didn’t say a word in response, merely tipped his head toward the envelope, waiting for me to open it. So I did.
I tore into the envelope carefully, withdrawing a folded piece of white paper. Something heavy wrapped in white tissue fell out and I grabbed it, giving it a shake. It had weight, and I heard something jangle, but I had no clue what it was.
Curiosity filling me, I set the tissue-wrapped object on the table and opened the letter first, frowning at the writing, which looked like it was scratched across the surface of the paper, black and slashing, almost aggressive.
Dear Katie,
I’m just going to come out and say it. I miss you. A lot. And I never miss anyone, trust me. I’ve had no one in my life that I want to miss, you know?
Until I met you—and helped you. No one understands what we went through together and I feel like everyone’s trying to keep us apart. I get it. You’ve been through a lot, way more than I ever have, and they think I’m bad so I know that’s why they don’t want us to see each other.
But I wish I could see you. Make sure that you’re okay, that you’re healing and that you’re not mad at me. I never wanted to hurt you. I hope you know that. I only wanted to take care of you and make sure you were safe. It just sucks that the person I was trying to save you from was my dad.
I don’t know how to feel about it, how to talk about it, so I just don’t.
I’m in a foster home with a bunch of other dudes my age while I wait for them to place me. I don’t trust anyone. It’s awful. But it was worse living with my dad, so I guess I can’t complain.
There’s a little something with this letter for you. I wanted to find you a gift, for you to remember me by. I hope you like it. It’s not much, but when I saw it, I knew I had to get it for you.
It would be great if you can write me back but I understand if you can’t. Just know that I miss you a lot and I hope you’re okay.
I hope you’ll always be okay.
Will
I stared at the letter, tears blurring my vision, blurring his words, his wonderful words that I wanted to read again. Later. When I was all alone and could savor exactly what he said to me.
“There’s something else for you, too,” Detective Green reminded me.
Refolding the letter, I set it on the table and reached for the tissue-wrapped gift, carefully undoing the tape and peeling back the layers of white paper. A silver bracelet lay nestled within, the band thin and solid, a tiny charm hanging off of it.
I lifted the bracelet from the paper and turned it this way and that, admiring the charm, my heart aching when I saw what it was.
A guardian angel sitting on the ground, her head bowed over her bent knees, her giant wings folding over her as if protecting herself from . . . everything.
I turned the charm over. Two words were engraved on the back.
Healing. Strength.
Without thought I slipped the bracelet on and shook my arm, the charm twisting back and forth. “If I wrote him a letter, would you make sure he got it?” I asked the detective, not meeting his gaze. What if he said no? I would be devastated.
He paused for a moment, hesitation shimmering in the air, and I closed my eyes and held my breath until I heard his answer.
“Yes.”
Opening my eyes, I studied Detective Green, saw that there was an ally sitting in front of me, and relief flooded through me, making me weak. “Let me get a piece of paper and a pen.”
I tore into the letter, my hands freaking shaking I was so eager to read what she wrote. Disappointment crashed into me when I saw there was only one page. It was unfair to have so many expectations on her when the letter I wrote her was barely one page, too.
But I couldn’t help it. For whatever reason, when it came to Katie, I wanted more. I wanted . . . all of her. It made no sense but the connection between us was so strong, I still felt it. Tethering me to her, an invisible string that tied us together no matter how far apart we were.