Page 138 of Valor

Even though my back hasn’t bothered me all day, the spots where I was impaled on shards of it begin to sting, my brain drawing me back into that moment. I can all but see myself hit the table.

Hear the shattering of the glass as it broke and punctured my skin.

Get it together, Lani. You can do this.

“If you can’t tell us everything that’s missing, it’s okay. Just do your best,” Gibson replies.

“I have a pretty good memory,” I tell him. “And I don’t keep things I don’t need. So I should be able to give you an accurate list.”

“Lani—”

“Just let me do it, okay?” I ask, reaching back for the notepad in his hand.

His gaze is hardened by the internal struggle I imagine he’s dealing with. A fight between the cop who needs to know and the protector ready to rip me away from this place so I never have to face it again.

Finally, he hands it to me.

“I’ll be right back. Please, just let me do this, okay?”

Both men nod in understanding, and as I turn to head down the hall, I don’t hear them following me.

My entire place has been destroyed, clothes strewn all over the bed and floor. Some of them were me, I remember. I’d left my possible outfits lying out before my date with Gibson.

Tears burn in the corners of my eyes. This wasnotsupposed to happen. I was supposed to come back here and lie in bed all night, grinning like an idiot because it was the best night of my life.

The best night that transformed all too quickly into my biggest nightmare.

Get it together, Lani.Taking a deep breath, I start to look through the clothes on the bed. For the most part, they’re all the ones I left. Whoever took me emptied out my closet and drawers, though, and it’s those clothes that are all over the floor.

Most of them, anyway. Quite a few of my church dresses are missing, as well as some jeans, three shirts, and all of my jewelry. There wasn’t even anything expensive in the box, costume jewelry I’ve had since I was young, and a few of my favorite earrings gifted to me over the years.

The diary I’ve had since I was a teenager is no longer in its place in my nightstand, and the book I’d been reading is also missing. After writing all of it down on Gibson’s notepad, I leave my bedroom and head into my bathroom.

Toothbrush. Hairbrush. Bag of hair-ties. Shampoo and conditioner. Body wash. All missing.

Even the towel I’d been using is gone.

I head back into the living room and check the kitchen countertop where I’d left my Bible. And when I see the teal leather cover sitting right where I left it, I want to weep with joy. Bradyn and Gibson remain in the entryway where I left them, neither of them saying a word as I lift the Bible and hold it in my arms.

Thank You, God. Thank You for rescuing me and for keeping this here for me. Please, Father, help me understand. Help me see the truth so we can keep this from happening to anyone else. In the name of Your Son, Jesus Christ, I pray. Amen.

When I open my eyes, the weight feels just a bit lighter.

Within ten minutes, I’ve finished going through the rest of the apartment. Aside from the personal belongings in my bedroom and bathroom, everything else was untouched.

“Thank you,” Gibson replies as I hand him the list. “I know this was hard.”

“It was necessary. And thank you for being here. Both of you,” I add, looking at my oldest brother.

“Anytime. You ready to get home?”

Home.This used to be my home. But after being here today, I know that I never want to return. Not unless it’s to get my things. “Yes. We can go.” I turn to Gibson. “Are you coming over for dinner?” My mom had invited him, along with Pastor Ford and his wife.

“I think I need to start working on this. Build a profile so we can catch this guy,” he says. “But I’ll check in with you later, all right?”

I try to bury the disappointment beneath a smile. “Sounds good.”

Bradyn holds the door open for me, so Bible still in hand, I step out into the breezeway of my building. Gibson doesn’t follow. By the time we’ve gotten down to Bradyn’s truck, my best friend still hasn’t emerged from my apartment.

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