Kay followed his gaze. He was staring at Jenna. Kay set down her fork. An uneasiness swirled in her stomach.
“With Jenna’s permission, I’d like to tell you something,” Frank said, his voice way softer than normal.
Jenna and Frank exchanged a glance.
Kay looked at Damien, whose mouth had frozen midchew. Their eyes met, and Kay read fear. She knew that fear. It was coursing through her own body. What was Frank talking about? Was Jenna involved in the kidnapping somehow? She glanced at Jenna, who just stared at her plate.
“What is it?” Kay asked, trying to keep her voice steady and calm.
Frank held out a hand. “Relax. It’s nothing bad. In fact, it’s the opposite.”
Kay sat up straighter, tried to prepare herself for whatever she was about to hear.
“You know we found Gabby last night. The reason we found her in time is because a very brave person tipped off police. And that brave person was your daughter.”
A small whimper of relief escaped Kay.
Jenna glanced up, her eyes searching everybody for a reaction.
Damien reached for Jenna’s hand and looked at Frank. “Jenna?”
“Jenna knew something was going down. She didn’t have details, but her gut told her that those girls were involved. She alerted me to what was going on, where she thought Gabby might be. Turned out she was right.”
“But Jenna was upstairs in her room asleep that night,” Kay said.
Jenna smiled weakly. “I kind of snuck out to meet Frank. Sorry.”
Kay took a deep breath as she sorted through it all in her head.
“Sweetie,” Damien said, “why haven’t you told us any of this?”
“I didn’t think…” Jenna shook her head and looked down. “I didn’t think you’d believe me.”
Damien started to say something, but Kay held up her hand. “She’s right. We haven’t been listening, have we, Jenna?”
“It’s okay. It’s just what I needed to do.”
“She’s a hero,” Frank said. “She saved Gabby’s life.”
Hunter reached over and patted her on the back. “Way to go, Sis.”
“Thanks.” She smiled at her brother like she used to when they were young.
“Jenna,” Frank said, “why don’t you tell your parents the rest?”
“The rest?” Kay asked.
Jenna pressed her lips together and took several seconds before she said, “Once the girls are charged, I might be called as a witness.” She glanced back and forth between Kay and Damien. “I want to do it. I’m not scared.”
“Scared of what?” Damien asked Frank.
“There could be some retribution at school. But we’ll keep Jenna’s name out of it as long as possible. In fact, this thing probably won’t even go to trial until next year. A lot of emotion will have passed by then, so I don’t anticipate any problems. The DA and the department understand the sensitivity of the situation.”
“A lot of people are upset; that’s all,” Jenna said. “I mean, this is hard to take.”
Kay kept nodding with each statement, trying her best to understand that Jenna’s heroic move would not be viewed as heroic by everyone. What had this world come to? She saved a life and now feared for her own?
“There’s a chance the DA might not need her testimony at all. We have confessions from both girls, so they’ll probably enter guilty pleas and be turned over to the court to decide what to do with them.”
“Okay. Sure. We understand,” Damien said, but Kay could see it in his eyes. He was unsure.
Still, to look at their daughter, to know what goodness dwelled deep inside her… it sort of wiped out all the apprehension.
“The state brought in an investigator,” Frank continued. “He’s making some headway into figuring out who is doing the Web site. As long as it’s up, he’s fairly sure he can get who is doing this.”
“That’s good,” Damien said, beginning to eat. “The sooner, the better.”
“You haven’t received anything at the paper, have you? any letters to the editor from this guy? any threats?”
“No,” Damien answered.
The conversation continued throughout dinner. Damien mentioned that Reverend Caldwell had stopped by to commend Jenna for sticking up for Gabby. Then talk turned to lighter topics. It seemed like old times, if just for a little while. Frank even agreed to stay for ice cream and a game of Monopoly.
But Frank came into the kitchen as Kay was clearing the dishes and Damien was getting down bowls. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to pass on ice cream and Monopoly tonight.”
“You do?”
“Sorry to back out. There’s just something I need to do.”
Kay studied Frank. The lines on his face sank deeper than normal, like how they looked after his divorce. Kay touched his arm. “Everything all right?”
“Yeah, fine. Just tired.” Frank gave Damien a quick hug and a hearty slap on the back. “Thank you, my friend. You got a fine family here,” Frank said, winking at Jenna as she and Hunter came into the kitchen.
“You’re leaving?” Jenna said.
“Yeah, sorry, guys. Maybe next time. Hey, Hunter, I’ve got something for you in my truck. Want to walk me out?”
“Sure,” Hunter said.
“Kay, thanks for dinner,” Frank said. “Damien, see you soon.”
Kay and Damien watched from the window as Frank stood for a few minutes talking with Hunter.
“What do you think they’re talking about?” Kay asked. “Looks like a lively conversation.”
“I don’t know,” Damien said. “But that right there is a good thing. And a good man.”
Frank pulled into the small circular parking lot and checked his watch. Ten minutes before visiting hours were over. He got out and lumbered toward the front doors, his back aching from stress.
The glass doors swooshed open, creating a short breeze against his face. Lisa Yaris, now Lisa Hall since getting married two weeks ago, was working the desk tonight, and she always had a smile for him. “Hi, Frank.” She checked her watch. “Cutting it close tonight.”
“Just throw me in a wheelchair and toss me out when you’re ready for me to go.”
Lisa laughed, stretching over the desk to pat his hand. “You know we love you.”
Frank signed in and walked toward the third hallway, room 412. He knew she’d be done with dinner, done with her bath, and would have her nightgown on.
The door was open and he walked in. She sat in her specially equipped wheelchair, strapped tightly in, with her back to the door. A silent, flickering television played an old variety show in black and white. The tiny Christmas tree he’d brought two weeks ago, with its miniature ornaments, still looked in its place and untouched.
He came around to face her, pecking her on the cheek, then sat down on her bed, eyeing the room to make sure it was well kept and everything was in its place. For a while her gowns kept disappearing, but that seemed to have stopped.
“Hey, kiddo.”
Like always, there was no response. Her contorted face didn’t move. Her eyes blinked every ten seconds. Her mouth gaped open as if it were in the middle of a bloodcurdling scream. Her neck stretched and strained to the right, causing her cheek to almost rest against her shoulder, which lifted up slightly by an arm that was permanently twisted against her chest. Her hands were frozen, clawlike.
Frank took the brush off the bedside table and moved closer to her. Her hair, still long and shiny but gray now, gently waved against her cheeks. He carefully brushed it. The scar around her neck was still there, deep purple, after all these years. He lifted her hair and touched it.
“I’m trying to save this little town,” he began, continuing to brush. “I’m not sure it wants saving. I’m not sure it can bear to know the truth.” He pulled the hair away from her face so he could see her eyes… once a deep and sparkly brown. “Kind of like you. If you could, I know you’d tell me how much you hate me for saving you that day. That you wouldn’t want to live like this-” Frank cut off his words and set down the brush. He took her hand. It was cold like usual. “I just wish you had known your worth. That’s all I wish. That you hadn’t believed all the lies other people said about you. I wish this town could learn… would listen to one another instead of talking so much.”