“Sheriff, what’s going on here? What’s the problem?”
Lily assumed that this was the principal, but she didn’t care. She pulled Abby inside the building before anyone could stop her. As they made their way into the school, a part of Lily wanted to tell Abby his name. They’d never kept secrets—Lily had told Wes as much when they’d first started dating.
“You mean, she knows everything about you? Like everything?” he’d asked.
Lily hadn’t realized how strange that had sounded until he said it out loud. She’d racked her brain trying to think of an event or moment she hadn’t shared with her sister, some deep dark secret. But there were none. With a flicker of sadness, she realized there were so many things she could never tell Abby. Things she couldn’t share with anyone.
“If you want to wait with Mom, it’s okay.”
“No way, Lil. I’m here with you. All the way.”
Abby’s support kept her going as she moved through the halls. There was a time when they’d owned this school, identical and in total unison. Now they were complete opposites. Abby so much larger, her feet heavy on the polished tile floor, Lily nothing but bones, her steps hesitant and delicate.
Lily walked past the admin office, and a photo caught her eye. Her photo. It was her sophomore class picture. She’d worn her favorite lilac sweater and a matching headband, and she was laughing as if she’d heard the world’s funniest joke. A simple gold plaque hung below, the words In Our Hearts Forever etched in a perfect cursive scrawl.
A tribute. A memorial. They’d thought she was dead, Lily realized. They thought he’d killed her. Lily’s pace quickened. She passed the gym, the sound of sneakers screeching on the hardwood as gawky teenage boys did basketball drills. She passed several classrooms filled with bored students staring dully back at their teachers. She turned down the hall and stopped a few feet from Rick’s classroom, where she could see him but he could not see her. He’d always bragged about the fact that he got the best and biggest classroom space. He prided himself on decorating it in a way that separated him from the other teachers. On the walls there were posters of Led Zeppelin, the Beatles, Jim Morrison—all “true artists,” or so Rick said. He prided himself on being “cool,” and his classroom was a reflection of those efforts.
The early-morning sunlight streamed through the windows illuminating Rick’s casually tousled black mane (though nothing with Rick was ever casual). He was almost forty, but with his smooth, angular features, he could easily pass for early thirties. His jeans were designer, of course—and he wore a black button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a skinny green tie. He smiled back at his students, his chiseled features and dimples on full display, his eyes bright as if something one of his students had said was the cleverest thing he’d ever heard. Even now, Lily could understand why they worshipped him, how simple it was to fall under his spell. He knew the texts. His intelligence was indisputable as was his charm.
She stood frozen for a moment, simply staring at him. The decibel level in the hallway was growing by the second. Sheriff Rogers moved beside Lily as two deputies and a school security guard pushed their way to the front, the principal trailing them. Through the window, a student spotted them and interrupted Rick’s lecture.
“Hey, look it’s the cops!”
Rick stopped talking and followed his students’ gaze. In a life filled with spectacular moments—and Lily intended to have many—this would go down as her favorite. His expression of confusion and disbelief faded and was replaced by a look of pure rage. She’d spent years avoiding that look, learning how to recognize the signs of his impending fury, knowing what awaited her when she miscalculated. But not today. Today she absorbed it, used it to fuel her. She turned to Sheriff Rogers.
“That man held me captive for three thousand one hundred and ten days. Rick Hanson is the man who kidnapped me. He is the man who raped me and impregnated me. He’s the man you need to arrest.” Lily’s voice wasn’t weak anymore. It was steady and strong, demanding to be heard.
As she’d predicted, the officers were obviously trying to reconcile the fact that this respected teacher could have committed such a horrifying crime. But she’d been wrong about their lack of commitment. They were professionals. They had a job to do, and they did it with startling efficiency. The sheriff and his men burst into the classroom and surrounded her abductor.
“Rick Hanson, you are under arrest for the kidnapping of Lily Riser. You have the right to remain silent.”