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Epilogue

A Year Later

Henri
T he sound of packing tape ripping off the roll and adhering to the

cardboard box bounces off the walls of the now-empty room. Sanya bites
her bottom lip as she pushes the tape cutter down as if biting her lip gives
her extra power.

My eyes fixate on her lips as my brain recalls a fantastic memory from earlier
this morning when those very lips were doing dirty things to my…
“Last box,” Sanya announces in time to keep my mind from going all the way
south.

I take another long look around the empty office.
“Are you sure about this?” I query for what feels like the thousandth time; not
because I disagree, but because I want to be sure she’s doing what she feels is best
for her.

After months of therapy to combat her trauma and my guilt for not catching
on the moment Teo answered her door, I don’t want her to do anything that she
doesn’t want to do. Ever.
We are now at the point where we can both breathe easier knowing Teo is
locked away like the crazy person he turned out to be. His parents tried to use their
money to get him assigned to a mental facility instead of jail, but with the months
of unanswered texts – that Sanya never told me about – along with the fact that he
showed up with, not one, but two guns, it was a hard sale.