Page 66 of Rich Little Liars

‘Thank you,’ I say again. ‘I mean it. Having you here tonight… it helped. More than you know.’

‘I’m glad.’ He pulls his jacket from the back of his chair. ‘I’ll let myself out in half an hour or so. Want to make sure the patrol car does another pass before I leave.’

‘Half an hour?’ I raise an eyebrow. ‘That’s very precise.’

‘Force of habit. I time everything.’

‘Well, just make sure you lock the door behind you,’ I say softly, almost teasing. ‘I’d hate to survive a stalker only to be burgled because a police officer forgot basic security.’

Harvey smiles. A real smile this time – something softer. Warmer. It changes his whole face, makes him look younger somehow.

‘I think I can manage that.’

‘I’m trusting you. My entire sense of safety is now in your hands.’

‘No pressure then.’

We stand there for a moment, neither quite ready to break the spell. The kitchen feels different than it did hours ago. Less like a crime scene and more like a space where two people have shared something honest.

‘Goodnight, Ms Reynolds,’ he says finally.

‘Kelly,’ I correct him. ‘You’ve listened to me ramble about my marriage. I think we’re past surnames.’

‘Kelly, then.’ He nods. ‘Goodnight, Kelly.’

‘Goodnight, um…’

‘Joseph.’

I nod then climb the stairs slowly, aware of him moving around downstairs, the soft sounds of someone making sure things are secure. The bedroom feels less threatening with him in the house. The shadows less ominous. I climb into bed without even taking the time to undress, pulling the comforter up to my chin.

From below, I hear him checking the back door. Testing the lock. The simple domestic sounds of someone caring enough to be thorough.

Sleep comes without a fight for once. It steals over me gently, softly, like being lowered into warm water. The last thing I’m conscious of is the distant click of the front door locking.

He remembered.

And somewhere in the fog of approaching sleep, I find myself thinking that maybe – just maybe – I’m not as alone as I thought. That kindness can come from unexpected places. That even in the middle of a nightmare, there are moments of grace.

23

NOW

I dream of smoke.

Not the fire itself, but the aftermath. That thick, choking grey that fills your lungs and blinds your eyes and makes you forget which way is up. I’m crawling through it, reaching for something I can’t quite see, and Daniel is calling my name from somewhere far away. Except it’s not Daniel’s voice any more. It’s deeper. Rougher. And it’s not calling – it’s whispering.

Kelly.

Kelly.

You and I need a little conversation.

I surface from sleep like a drowning woman breaking through water. My eyes snap open to darkness. I must have drifted off waiting for Officer Harvey to leave.

Then I feel it.

Something hard against my throat.