Page 125 of Run Away With Me

‘Am I allowed?’

‘They’re your notes, Jessie.’

I thought about that for a second, sipping my coffee. ‘I don’t think I do. I was there, I know what happened.’

‘That’s fair. Do you have any questions for me?’

I had so many questions that I didn’t know where to start. But one in particular had been nagging me.

‘How did they find us?’

Lena glanced down at her iPad. ‘I think you were stopped by police in Georgia?’

‘Yeah,’ I murmured, thinking of the super-friendly cop who had spent too long looking at Meredith’s ID.

‘He connected the two of you to the missing persons’ report and alerted Atlanta PD.’ She gave me a sad little smile. ‘Brooke’s car is very distinctive. They spotted you pretty quickly.’

‘Oh.’ I sighed, and stared down into my coffee. So, Brooke had been right. Weshouldhave detoured to another city.

‘Anything else?’ Lena asked, and I shook my head. I had so many more questions but they could wait for later. ‘Okay. There are a few things we should probably talk about.’

I went and sat down at the table, preparing myself for the worst.

I had been kicked out of St. Catherine’s.

I could still finish the school year being home-schooled if I wanted.

My mom wanted to see me.

My dad had written me a letter.

I had been asked to go to another police interview, with Seattle PD this time.

‘Do I have to?’ I asked, and Lena made a face.

‘You kinda do. Sorry.’ I thought she meant it, too.

I made a face back at her. ‘When?’

‘Today, I expect.’

I told myself it was better to get it all out of the way, rather than having the prospect of another police station hanging over me like a dark cloud. Despite what Detective Beaufort had said, I wasn’t completely convinced that Seattle PD were going to drop everything and let me go.

Lena opened her mouth, then closed it again, and I knew there was something she wasn’t telling me.

‘What else?’ I pressed.

‘You asked to be put in foster care instead of being sent back to your mom,’ Lena said cagily.

It took me a second to understand what she was implying.

‘I told the police in Atlanta that my mom’s boyfriend was abusive.’

Lena nodded. ‘They’ll want to make sure wherever you go next is a safe place for you.’

I realized that was why I’d been carted off to a hotel, then to social services, before someone had picked me up. They wanted to make sure my mom wasn’t abusing me too. She hadn’t, and she wouldn’t, but I still wasn’t ready to face her again.

Lena made some phone calls while I brushed my teeth and blow-dried my hair. Despite what everyone had told me – that I wasn’t going to be thrown in jail for murder – it was hard to accept. Going back to a police station felt like I was being led to my execution.

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