Don't Talk to Strangers

XXVI

It took me a week and a half before they even considered letting me out. My mother had come to visit me within the first few days after getting a phonecall about my return. She'd sobbed at the end of the bed, holding my hand and telling me she was sorry and that she'd never let me out of her sight again. I should've been grateful. Things were back the way they should have been. But I couldn't find emotion. I couldn't seem to feel happy for myself, happy for her. So I just sat there, looking at the ceiling while she cried over her daughter who she thought was returned, but in fact was still lost.

The physical therapy was annoying, having to get up at earlier hours than I wanted and to have to strain myself for their satisfaction. I was growing more and more bitter each day. But whenever I thought of Dan, thinking of him holed up in some cell, alone, I felt a fire of determination grow in me and I pushed through the PT sessions. I was the most healed far before they'd estimated.

"She's made an astounding recovery," the doctor was telling my mom outside my room. They pretended that a curtain could keep me from hearing. "The infection really took a toll on her body. She'll need to rest for a while; don't let her go out for a day or two, and then ease her back into the crowd."

"Thank you, doctor," my mom said. Her voice was beginning to grate on my nerves.

She came back in with a piercing smile plastered on her face. "Good news, Cassie! You're—!" she began.

"I'm getting out soon, thanks, I heard," I replied bitterly. Her smile fell, replaced with a scowl.

"Cheer up, would you? He's gone. That horrible man is gone, you don't need to worry about him any more."

"You don't understand, Mom!" I cried. "You never did!"

She stormed out of the room and I turned to the window. I'd have to keep my temper on check—she was my ticket out of here.

The day I got out I'd definitely put on the list of the best days of my life. I even felt I could endure a whole car ride with my mother. She barely talked to me, however. That was fine by me. All I could think about was how far away the hearing date for Dan was. I'd seen it on the news from the television in my room. He was going to be tried in four weeks. They had plenty of evidence. They just didn't have me.

"Mom, I'm going to the hearing," I told her after a day or two home.

"What?" she blinked. "Of course you're not, don't be ridiculous. They have plenty of evidence to convict him without you. You don't need that stress." She hardly looked at me, continuing to clean the house around me.

"Mom, I'm serious," I replied, trying to control my temper. "I need to go. I have to present my side."

"Your side," she snapped, stopping what she was doing, "is that you were kidnapped against your will, and held captive for days. You're safe now. If you'd just stop mentioning it, we might be able to actually get over it!" She huffed and started angrily cleaning again.

I glared at her back. I was going to the hearing. But I had to get to the police station to set up my presentation first, and soon. My own mother wasn't going to stop me. I needed someone to help me, as much as I hated feeling helpless.

I had a friend to call.