“She can stay with us after she’s released. My mom already said so.”
Detective Torres nodded.
“That’s good. You’ll need a safe place.”
An hour later, my phone buzzed with a text from our neighbor.
Police cars at your house. Deanna tried to run. They caught her at the end of the street.
I should have felt relieved.
But all I felt was tired.
Tired of being sick.
Tired of not being believed.
Tired of fighting for my life in my own home.
“Get some rest,” Marisol said, adjusting my IV. “You’re safe now.”
But as I lay in that hospital bed watching police officers station themselves outside my door, I wondered if I was really safe.
And how my life had turned into something out of a crime show.
More importantly, what would happen when I finally had to face my father again?
The man who chose to believe his new wife over his own daughter.
Who watched me waste away and called it dramatic.
Could any blood test repair that kind of betrayal?
The medication started to take effect, a heavy warmth spreading through my veins.
As I drifted off, I heard Detective Torres on the phone in the hallway.
“Search the kitchen first,” she said. “Focus on the tea collection and any powdered supplements.”
“And check the smoothie in the travel mug by the sink.”
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