He opened the front door.
Fresh air.
Holding his hand, she walked with him down the sidewalk. When they passed the stop sign where Eric had caught her, she took a deep breath. This was it. A few more steps and she would be free. Could it be that easy? It was almost a full year to the day since she had been kidnapped—the first part of February. There would be fog rolling into her hometown if it was cold enough. It sounded crazy that she might see it again, that her life might fall back to where it was before. But it could never be like it was before. Would she even want it to be? She took one last look at the house. It was dark. She saw her bedroom window, and it felt like a huge, gaping hole in her chest. Guilt swept through her, and she felt herself tugging to go back.
Jesse yanked on her hand. “No, Naomi. It’s over.”
They walked two more blocks until they reached his car. He held the passenger door open, and with a heavy sigh she got in. The hole in her chest widened as they drove away. She didn’t understand why she didn’t feel free.
HE DROVE her into Denver, deep into the city, where he parked the car across the street from some large, concrete and glass buildings.
“I have to leave you here,” he said softly. He was distant and withdrawn, unlike she had ever seen him before. His hands tightened around the steering wheel as he nodded across the street.
“That’s the police station. They’ll take care of you. You’ll be safe with them. You’ll see your parents again.”
She stared at the wide concourse in front of the building, at the few lamps over pine trees and benches. She started to cry, muttering something about not wanting to go home, and he waited for her to finish.
“You’re going to have a hard time getting over this—over everything we’ve done to you,” he said in a cold voice. “But you will eventually.”
She knew he was turning himself off to dull the pain. This wasn’t him. Harsh. Withdrawn. He wouldn’t even look at her.
“I’ll never get over this,” she said, staring down at the journal in her lap.
“Yes you will.”
The tears started. No way around them. She loved him more than she had ever loved anybody. “You can’t just drop me off and leave me like this,” she said stiffly. “I know I tried to escape once, but that was different. You were gone and it was my choice. I wanted to prove to myself that I could decide. This is different. You’re making me leave you, and I don’t want to. I’ve decided to stay with you. Doesn’t that matter?” She stared at him, willing him to look at her.
He shook his head and kept his focus on the buildings across the street. “I have no choice. This is the only way.”
“Where are you going to go? I have to see you again.” Her tears landed on the journal and rolled onto her jeans. “Jesse? Please.”
“I can’t tell you where I’m going. They’ll ask you, and if you don’t know you don’t have to lie.”
“I’ll see you again, though. When all of it’s over, I’ll see you.”
He finally turned to look at her. There were no tears in his eyes. “Get out of the car, Naomi.”
“I can’t.” She wanted to grab onto him and never let go. How could he do this to her? He was ripping her in two and he didn’t even care. Anger filled his eyes. It seemed to expand through the entire car like heavy smoke. It made her tears come faster.
“Get out.”
This time she sensed that he meant it with every ounce of his being, and her hands fumbled with the handle. Her journal fell out of her lap and onto the floor of the car. She left it there and slammed the door. The gravel of the parking lot was rough on her feet as Jesse drove away.
XXVIII
SUNLIGHT SIFTED THROUGH A PAIR OF white Venetian blinds. They were twisted half open so the light landed on the green-flecked floor tiles in glittering stripes. Naomi blinked once, then twice. The bars of light were amber colored across the bed. She thought they might be warm, but they weren’t. She ran her fingers across the bedding, trying to feel any heat at all, but there was only coldness against her already cold fingers.
She longed to be in her room with Evelyn’s quilt pulled close over her body, the smell of Jesse surrounding her, the radiance of dreaming about Italy and a future of happiness.
That was impossible now.
Now there was a stiff sheet spread over her, the smell of iodine and bleach, and the beeping heart monitors somewhere outside the door. She closed her eyes and fought back a wave of panic, remembering the moment she had stepped into the police station and told the drowsy-looking woman at the front desk who she was and what had happened. The woman had looked at her with eyes that got bigger and bigger until she called for an officer who immediately took Naomi to a room and asked her a hundred questions. Then they had brought her here to the hospital. It would be the third time in an hour that she was going to relive it all. Only now she was alone. No one was holding her hand, writing down her few awkward sentences, telling her everything was okay.
She pulled her knees to her chest and listened to a conversation through the open door behind her. The woman’s voice was irritated but hushed, obviously trying not to bother her. Too late. They had told her they would be right back, but she wished they would leave for good. They were no help at all, asking her to take off all her clothes, pull on a hospital gown, and lie on a table with her legs spread wide open so a doctor could poke and prod and examine her for evidence and her own safety and health. She had told him it was fine and she understood, but she had never been so embarrassed in her entire life, even when Eric had stood in the motel bathroom while she peed. All she could do was sob and whimper. Everybody seemed upset with her.
“It’s your classic Stockholm case,” the woman said out in the hallway.
“There’s the man she keeps mentioning,” a gruff man’s voice replied. He sounded irritated, and that made Naomi curl into a tighter ball. “The anonymous caller gave all the information on how to find the others, but not him. She must know something about where he’s gone, Steph. The longer we wait the less likely—”
“You think I don’t know that? Here, sign this, this, and this. I’m going to ask her a few more questions then we need to get going. Amy from the DCCV will be here soon. She’s better at this.”
Naomi closed her eyes. She would never tell them what was going through her mind. It was none of their damn business. She squeezed her fists so tightly her knuckles grew white. Jesse could hide from them forever, right? She certainly wouldn’t help them find him.
SHE HAD no idea what the DCCV was. Nobody bothered explaining it to her. She guessed it was some sort of counseling center, and this Amy person was sent over to weasel more information out of her.
“Is it alright if I ask you some questions?”
Naomi sat up in the hospital bed and nodded. People had been asking her that question all morning. Of course it was okay. But it didn’t mean she would give answers.
Amy smiled. She wasn’t the only one in the room. Nurses occasionally came in and out. One of them took another blood sample. Another checked her eyes for the fifth time. Sitting in one corner was a tired looking Asian man from the FBI.
“Is it alright if Agent Huang writes down what you say?” Amy asked kindly. “I know this is informal, but we’d like to try to understand what situation you were in while it’s still fresh in your mind. Does that make sense?”
She nodded again. Amy had spent the last half hour gaining her trust by talking to her in sweet, hushed whispers, telling her why she was feeling panicked, confused, and alone. So even though Naomi wasn’t going to give her any more information than she had given the FBI agents earlier, she was more inclined to look Amy in the eyes and try to smile.
“There are some clothes in the bathroom for you to change into when we’re finished,” Amy continued. She nodded toward the doorway to her left, straight across from Agent Huang. He was dressed in a tan suit and he held a small notebook and pen. He looked bored.
She turned to Amy and tried not to think about Jesse. Amy had red hair. It was brighter than Jesse’s, pulled into a ponytail of tight, frizzy curls. It stood out in the white room and glowed in the morning light shining through the blinds. Naomi hugged her waist even tighter, her entire body freezing beneath the thin material of her hospital gown. She missed her pink sweatshirt.
“Why did they take my clothes?” she asked quietly.
Agent Huang looked up from his notebook and narrowed his eyes. “They’re evidence,” he mumbled.
She tried to control the panicked breaths rising in her throat. Evidence. Although she was sure they believed her story about being kidnapped, she wasn’t giving them all the details. The police needed all the evidence they could get.
Amy leaned forward and touched her arm. “Just a few questions, alright?”
“Okay.”
Amy fiddled with her pen for a moment then looked Naomi in the eyes. “Who is the person who set you free?”
Focusing on Amy’s pen, Naomi gritted her teeth. She couldn’t tell them anything more about Jesse than she already had, but she also knew they might find out everything about him soon enough from Eric and the others.
“He was one of my captors,” she said, shuddering at the sound of the last word. It wasn’t how she wanted to describe Jesse, but no other word sounded right.
“He’s the one you’ve admitted to having a relationship with?” Amy asked with a soft pat on her arm.
Naomi swallowed. Dr. Reed had forced that information out of her as he was examining her. “Yes.”
“Alright, that makes sense now. You haven’t been very clear about who is who, and it’s very helpful for us to have you clear things up. Also, that was very kind of him to let you go after all this time. Do you think it’s because he cares for you?”
Naomi squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. “No, he doesn’t care about me. He left me. The only reason he’s done any of this is to get back at
them.
”
“I see. You seem upset about that. Am I reading your emotions correctly?”
Such guided talk. It might be manipulation, but perhaps not. She saw her future spread out before her, filled with counselors and authorities trying to squeeze information out of her. She kept her eyes closed, willing it all to go away. She wanted to be back with Jesse, and that was all. How could he have left her like this? So alone.
“Can you tell me anything about him?” Amy asked.
“Like what? I don’t want to talk about him, I really don’t.”
“Okay, fair enough. Can you at least tell me if it was his idea to initially keep you captive?”
“No! I mean, maybe.” She put a hand to her forehead. Had it been Jesse’s idea? Was it all his fault? He had admitted that he was the one to put her in the car. He was the one who had convinced Eric to keep her alive at first. He was the one who agreed to steal jewelry. It sounded so bad in her mind when she thought of it in such a light. But she loved him. She couldn’t possibly blame him for everything. The others had made decisions too. Eric was the true leader.
“Maybe? Can you elaborate?” Amy asked.
Naomi stuttered for a moment. “I-I can’t. I mean, they all kept me there. It wasn’t just him. I can’t blame him. He only wanted to make everything right.”
Patting her arm once again, Amy nodded and kept a concerned expression on her face. The oddest thing of all was that she truly seemed concerned. For a moment Naomi wanted to tell her everything. Nobody else cared as much. She had nobody.
Amy cleared her throat. “It sounds like there is a very complex story behind of all of this, but it’s going to take some time for you to be ready to tell it, am I right?”
Relieved, Naomi whispered, “Yes,” and fought back some tears. Everything made her cry now.
“Your parents will be here in an hour. Do you want to wait until they arrive before we ask you any more questions? You still seem upset.”
“They’ll be here in an hour?” Her voice came out as a squeak. She put a hand to her mouth and choked back a wave of panic. Amy helped her lie down and put a hand on her forehead.
“Try to rest for a bit, sweetheart.”
She tried not to think about how Evelyn had called her sweetheart. She tried not to think about anything, but Jesse filled her head until she cried out in pain.
XXIX
KAREN AND JASON WALKED THROUGH THE hallways of the Denver Health Medical Center as an officer explained Naomi’s condition. Karen glanced at the generic landscape paintings lining the walls and an old woman in a wheelchair who looked like she was about to fall asleep. Everything seemed so calm, but Karen felt the complete opposite. She was going to see Naomi. What would she look like? Would she be different? Angry? Broken? She didn’t want this to be a bad experience for Naomi—to face parents who had ignored her most of her life. Was it possible to repair such a thing? She remembered walking into the hospital the day before her mother died of cancer. The sharp smell of impending death hung in the air, and Karen knew it would never go away in her mind. It was soap and iodine and bleach. No smoke. Too clean to be her mother, and the smell was made worse by Karen’s anger for the past, for her mother’s careless choices and laziness. Even now it upset her. Would Naomi hold on to things the same way? Could things really change after such a long time?
The officer escorting them through the hospital stopped as a young, red-headed woman came toward them from down the hall. She reminded Karen of Anna with her wild hair. She carried a notebook in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other, but quickly maneuvered the notebook under her elbow and reached her hand out to Jason.