Livia’s jabs were crisp. They landed with a whistling pop each time she connected with Randy’s headgear. He covered up well enough for her to know she wasn’t causing any damage, merely keeping him at bay. She transferred her weight to her left leg and was ready to bring her right shin up to Randy’s midsection when she noticed his arm rise in anticipation. Instead, she quickly spun to her right and connected solidly with a spinning elbow that caught Randy clean in the temple. He went down in a heap.
“Oh!” Livia said when his huge body crumbled to the mat. “Are you okay?”
But Randy was laughing while he lay on the mat, holding his head. “Thought you were going to the well with that side kick.”
Livia crouched down. “Where’d I get you?”
“Right where you were aiming.”
“Let me have a look.”
Randy sat up. “No, thanks.” He swatted her hands away. “You work on dead people. I don’t want to be your patient.”
“Okay.” Livia lifted her gloved hands in surrender. “Tell me what hurts.”
“My pride. Otherwise, I’m fine.”
Livia offered a hand and pulled Randy to his feet. They both climbed out of the ring while the onlookers snickered.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Randy said to the crowd. “Get it all out.”
This brought a few more laughs until the crowd returned to their workouts. He took a seat on the bench as Livia handed him a water bottle.
“How’re you handling your fame, Doc? I keep seeing you on the news.”
“I’m just filler. It’s not me they want.”
“I take you as a very modest person, but I hope you know you’re a hero.”
“Let’s not get dramatic, Randy. I think that spinning elbow has made you delusional.”
Randy pulled off his headgear. “I didn’t expect you to own up to it. But I’ve heard you talkin’ around here about how you look for answers to give the families of your patients. That girl you found in that house might not be a patient, but you saved her. And you answered the biggest question her family could ever ask.”
“Maybe.”
Livia took a seat next to him. Randy’s hulking body seemed to dwarf Livia’s more when they sat side by side than when they sparred in the ring.
“You know something?” she said. “You were with me in the house at Stellar Heights.”
“I know that ain’t true. I’ve seen the pictures of that place on the news, and you’d sooner catch this black man at a Klan rally than in that basement.”
Livia smiled. She pointed to her heart. “You were in here. And up here,” she said, tapping her temple. “I could have died if I didn’t know the things you’ve taught me.”
“Well, you just knocked a three-hundred-pound man on his ass, so there’s nothing left to teach you.”
Livia stood up. “You’ve taught me a lot more than how to fight.” She kissed him on top of his head. “Thanks.”
Livia headed for the locker room.
“Hey,” Randy said. “Hope this weekend goes okay for you.”
Livia smiled and nodded her head. “It will.”
*
Nicole’s funeral officially took place fifteen months after she disappeared. It was a quiet ceremony made up of family and friends. Jessica Tanner and Rachel Ryan spent the entire day with the Cuttys. The presence of Dr. Colt and his wife as they entered the church put a lump in Livia’s throat. It was a short service that served a single purpose of closure, the atmosphere saturated with both torment and relief.
The church was nearly empty when Livia saw the old man walk through a side door and approach the closed casket. He ran his hand over the mahogany and bowed his head in prayer. It took Livia a moment to place him before it registered. She walked over and took a spot next to him, stared at Nicole’s casket for a while before he noticed her.
“I’m very sorry about your sister,” the man said.
“Thank you.” Livia held out her hand. “Mr. Steinman, correct?”
He nodded and shook her hand. “I don’t mean to intrude on such a private matter, but I’ve got a message from a friend of yours. She’s very sorry to not be here. She wanted to come, but with the news cameras outside . . .”
“Oh,” Livia said. “Of course. I understand.”
“She wanted me to tell you,” Mr. Steinman said, pulling a piece of paper from his pocket to make sure he got the message correct. “Thank you for coming when I called you. And for being a good friend.”
Mr. Steinman handed Livia the note, the words written in curly cursive. Livia took the note, wiped her tears, and inhaled a long breath.
“She okay?”
“Getting there. She’s helping me with my wife, who’s ill. She’s offered her help for as long as I’ve known her. I’m finally taking her up on it. She’s a great caretaker, and come hell or high water, I’m going to get her to college and medical school.”
“Tell her I’m proud of her, okay?” Livia said.
Mr. Steinman nodded.
“And I can’t wait to see her again. When she’s ready.”
*
Livia returned to Raleigh on Sunday night. She wasn’t sure she’d ever talk with Megan again, although the message from Mr. Steinman gave her hope. What would become of Megan after this ordeal, Livia couldn’t begin to imagine. The media were frenzied. Elizabeth Jennings drew their peripheral attention, but the country was intimate with Megan McDonald. They wanted details about the night she faced down her father in Stellar Heights. They wanted exclusives. They wanted to see her on the morning and evening news discussing the fascinating details of her journey to Stellar Heights. But Megan, this time, stayed underground. She was nowhere to be found, and Livia had no intention of outing her friend.
Camera crews camped overnight in front of the McDonald home, scampering and running whenever the garage door opened and a car backed down the driveway. With microphones stuck on long poles and television cameras pointed through the windows, reporters shouted questions at the car’s occupants. For the first few days it was Megan’s mother and aunt, but like Megan, they eventually disappeared to undisclosed locations. A permanent crew remained at the McDonald home, just in case they returned. The rest scattered around and hedged their bets, some camping at Megan’s aunt and uncle’s, others at her grandparents’. There had not yet been a picture taken of Megan since her father was arrested. The networks were forced to loop old photos from her book tour, and the stale ones of Megan from before the abduction. But the media were growing restless. They all wanted a piece of America’s renewed heroine. Dante Campbell promised that her audience would be the first to hear from Megan. She was, after all, a friend of the show.
In her absence, the hungry public ate up Megan’s book. After the Stellar Heights discovery, Missing soared to the top of the charts. No longer simply the girl who made it home, Megan McDonald was the girl who brought her captor to justice. She was the girl who triumphed. She was, indeed, everything the audience wanted.