“No, no, no, no. Not a runaway,” I said. “That man, the sketch—that proves it. She didn’t run away. Someone took her—they took her from us.”
Ryan nodded along, placating me. But then he said, “I know this has been a long road for the two of you, but I can promise you what we already know and see is just the tip of the iceberg. There’s much more to the story here, and we’re going to have to get to it.”
“What are they going to do at the hospital?” Abby asked.
I knew. I knew I knew I knew. I didn’t want to hear it, but I knew.
Ryan confirmed it.
“They’ll do a complete exam. Gynecological included. They’ll be looking for evidence of sexual assault and pregnancy.”
Abby made a small noise in the back of her throat.
“Someone who needs to be checked for those things didn’t run away,” I said.
Ryan stood up. “Wait here, and I’ll go see if things are ready. I thought I’d give the two of you a moment together before we bring you back. I think maybe you have some things to get straight before you see Caitlin.”
“Ryan?” I asked. “Is this going to be all right?”
He offered me a small smile. “Your daughter’s back. Doesn’t that mean this is a good day?”
When he was gone, I turned to Abby.
She didn’t look at me.
“Abby?”
She remained rigid as a block of wood.
“Abby? Are you okay?”
“I was at the church, working, and then Ryan called me.” She was looking at the floor. “I knew something bad was happening, something about Caitlin. I wasn’t expecting this today, Tom. This just comes out of nowhere.”
“It’s not a bad thing, Abby.”
“Why did you say such awful things about me?” she asked, raising her head.
“Are you looking for an apology? Because I’m not offering one.”
“Do you really think I don’t deserve to be here?”
“It’s not about you, Abby. Your feelings have nothing to do with this day.” I stood up. “But I can tolerate the idea of you being along for this. I’m willing to put up with that . . . for Caitlin. But I’m also not going to wait for you. They should be ready for us now, so get up and let’s go.”
Her upper body tilted forward, then back, and she slowly rose to her feet. She stood there for a second, looking like an unsteady drunk, one who didn’t trust that the world wasn’t about to tip over and throw her to the floor.
“Tom?”
“What?”
“I can’t do it.”
“You can’t—?”
“I can’t do it. I can’t go see her.”
“Oh, Abby. Come on.”
“Don’t push me, Tom.” She held her hand out. “Don’t give me some guilt trip about how I’m some kind of bad mother because I don’t want to . . . can’t . . . go see Caitlin right now.”
I looked to the door, my anxiety rising. She was here. Caitlin.
“Why don’t you want to go back there? Tell me.”
“I’m scared, Tom. Okay? I’m scared.”
“Of what?”
“Of what I might see. Of what Caitlin is going to be like now. Of what she’s been through. We’ve talked about a lot of things since she’s been gone. Is she still alive? Who took her? We never talked about what we’d do, what it would be like, if she did come back. I never really thought about it. Not in detail. And now . . .”
I went to her and crouched down, so we were at eye level.
“Abby, this is what we wanted. This is what we’ve been waiting for. You should go back there.”
She didn’t move.
“Abby?”
“I just need more time.” She looked away. “Give me more time.”
Ryan stuck his head in the door, looking like a giant turtle emerging from its shell.
“We’re ready,” Ryan said.
I straightened back up.
“Abby’s going to take another minute while I go back.”
Ryan’s eyes shifted from me to her and back to me again. He looked uncertain, but went ahead.
“Whatever works,” he said, holding the door open for me. “Let’s do this, Tom.”
I took one last look back at Abby, expecting her to change her mind. But her head was down, and she didn’t look at me.
Chapter Twenty-one
Even though I’d spent a lot of time in the police station, it still felt like an incomprehensible maze of hallways. We passed small rooms with closed doors, the brass finish on their knobs rubbed off to reveal the darker metal underneath. Two uniformed cops sat in a small office, one that overflowed with paper. They laughed as we approached and then, seeing us, lowered their voices. They continued laughing after we’d passed. Ryan didn’t speak. He walked in front of me, his head bobbing with his movements, his broad shoulders and thick middle nearly filling the entire hallway.
Something like adrenaline burned through me. Every pore and hair follicle in my body tingled with anticipation. I tried to swallow, but my mouth was dry. And I resisted the urge to reach out, shove Ryan to the side, and charge ahead to the room where they were keeping Caitlin.
Finally, Ryan stopped in front of a metal door.
“Okay,” he said. “Take your time. But remember, she does have to go to the hospital at some point.”
I nodded.