Where One Goes(55)

“Why didn’t you just go to the police?”

“Several reasons. I was scared. I didn’t want to be named as a witness or anything. I have a lot of tickets from throughout the years, and I was worried I’d get in trouble for those. I didn’t have any money to pay them.”

“You know how stupid that sounds, don’t you?” I say, and her lips flatten as if she’s mad.

Pushing the notepad toward her, my father says, “Write up a statement, and we’ll hand it over to the detective.”

She nods and takes the pad and pen and begins writing. When she’s done, my father hugs her tightly and assures her everything will be all right before he leaves to give it to the detective.

“I thought we agreed to tell him the truth.”

“We did,” she snaps. “But not right now. George is going through withdrawals. Let me get him through this and we’ll tell them.”

The room falls silent for a moment. She sits stiff as a board, her hands in her lap, staring straight ahead. “Are you all right, Charlotte?” I ask.

She smiles faintly. “What if they hate me for keeping the secret this long?”

“They won’t,” I promise. I know this without a doubt. They may be shocked at first, but they’ll believe her.

“It’s been so long since anyone has cared about me. I don’t want to lose them, Ike. And I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t,” I assure her. “You may not be able to see me once I go, but Charlotte, I’ll always be in your heart.” I place my hand to my chest in emphasis. “My family won’t turn you away either. You’re a part of us now. They won’t turn their backs on you. I swear it.”

Her tear-filled eyes meet mine and she stifles a sob. “And once they know, if they accept it and find peace, you’ll go. I feel like I’m going to lose no matter what I do, Ike. It’s suffocating me.”


“Charlotte,” my voice cracks. Standing, I walk toward the mirror, fighting my own emotions. I hate seeing her cry, but I hate it even more that leaving her is going to tear me up inside just as much as it is her. But there’s a pull, something invisible that I can’t see, tugging at me, drawing me to another place. I’d be gone by now if not for George, but his hold, that weight he’s had on my shoulders is lessening. When George finds peace, I’ll have no choice but to go where that invisible tether leads me, and that will mean leaving this beautiful woman behind. I know on one hand it will be better for her, no matter how sad she’ll be. Eventually she’ll move on or her sadness will ebb and she will be happy. On the other hand, the selfish part of me needs her to need me.

“What if you’re wrong? Then I’ll be all alone again, Ike. I’ll be exactly the way you found me. Alone and hopeless.”

Flashing around the table, I lean over it so that her gaze meets mine. I won’t let her be that way again. The memory of her standing on that bridge railing twists my insides. Life is full of color and magic and ups and downs, but Charlotte is the best parts of life. She’s light and warmth and bliss. “You listen to me, Charlotte. I don’t ever want to hear you say that again.” My fists clench as my anger seizes me and her eyes dart away. “Look at me, goddamn it!” I shout. When her gaze flicks back to mine, she’s holding her breath. “Never give up. Promise me,” I demand in a steady voice edged with fury. “I can’t find peace if I think for one second you’ll turn back into that girl I found on the bridge that night, Charlotte. Promise me,” I beg. My own eyes tear up as fear and anger seize me. She’s so important to me. I have to know she’ll be okay—that she’ll be strong. It will be an eternity of hell if I’m forced to go and have to carry the worry of her possibly ending her life with me. I need to know she’ll survive this; that she’ll be okay.

Lowering my voice and staring deep into her eyes, I beg, “Please, baby girl. Promise me. I need . . . I need to know you’ll be okay.”

Tears stream down her face, but she nods slightly. “I promise.”

“I’m sorry I can’t take you in my arms right now and hold you. I’d sell my soul to the devil if I could, Charlotte.” My words cause a sob to break free from her trembling lips.

“I know you would,” she whispers as she wipes at her face and nose with shaky fingers. She takes a few deep breaths and after a few moments, she seems to calm a bit. After another hour, the detective enters with her statement typed and has her sign it in the presence of my father.

“You won’t be leaving town anytime soon, will you, Charlotte?” Andrews asks.

“No, sir,” she answers.

“Your vehicle was brought in for inspection. We’ll be fingerprinting it. If we find any matches for whoever broke into your truck, we’ll be in touch. We’ll contact you when you can pick up the vehicle.”

“Thank you,” she says, and nods numbly before standing. My father leads her out of the interrogation room and down the corridor until they reach the lobby. George flies out of his chair and wraps his arms around her. “What in the hell took so long?” he growls. There are bags under his eyes and he’s pale. It’s not hard to see he’s hurting.

“George, it’s been a long day. Let’s just get her home,” my father encourages. He senses George’s agitation, but doesn’t realize it’s in part due to his withdrawals.