“Mr. Vitale?” the sudden intrusive voice snaps my attention away, and my smirk instantly drops.
“What?”
Troy sighs with exasperation at my tone.
“I see you’re still not interested in therapy,” Jones observes, a curl to his lips.
They’ve tried pushing a therapist on me to deal with murdering someone, but I don’t see why, considering I haven’t lost sleep over it.
“What gave it away?”
Jones doesn’t deign to give me an answer, but he huffs out a dry laugh.
“You might be a good role model for Trinity here,” Bancroft cuts in. “She might feel more comfortable going if you do.”
I stop before the group, staring at the two officers with a frown. Sawyer has held off on therapy, for now, not wanting to go to someone that was appointed to her. It’s hard to seek help when you’ve been forced to bury everything that gives you nightmares, never being able to tell another soul about it.
“Why are you here?”
Sawyer bites back a smile, shaking her head at me.
“Our investigators have seen substantial evidence of self-defense in this case. We wanted to tell you the good news ourselves that you’re no longer a person of interest.”
I cross my arms, staring at them for a beat before saying, “I already knew that.”
Troy’s eyes bug. He’s afraid of the police, and disrespecting them is no better than disrespecting the prime minister.
“Did you now?”
I shrug. “It was obvious considering he’s been hoarding dead bodies.”
“He’s very happy to hear that,” Sawyer cuts in, shooting me a look.
They don’t appear convinced, but I don’t really care.
“We gave Trinity some brochures on financial assistance and programs that might help her acclimate to society. I hope you encourage her to find her own independence, Mr. Vitale,” Bancroft explains, ending the last sentence with a stern, authoritative tone.
One eyebrow is raised, staring like when a parent is expecting you to go to college instead of living in their basement until they’re thirty.
The nuns that raised me are far scarier than her.
Said brochures are in Sawyer’s hand, and she’s staring at them like she plans on burning them later.
“Trinity is already independent, Officer. I hope you learn to give her more credit,” I respond stoically.
She smiles, conceding on that.
“You mentioned wanting to change your name, we can set you up with a lawyer who can help you through that process. From there, you’ll be able to sort out an ID as well,” Bancroft goes on, turning to Sawyer. “Have you decided what you want your name to be?”
Sawyer’s eyes widen as several sets of eyes zero in on her. She wants to keep her name—her real name—but she’s been nervous about trying to explain it to the police. Not that she has to explain a damn thing to anyone.
Clearing her throat, she says, “Yeah. I—uh, I know it might sound weird, but I wanted to name myself after Sawyer. My first name, at least. She… she taught me a lot, and I admired her. And she deserved to have a life.”
Bancroft might as well have melted in a puddle.
“That’s very sweet,” she says softly. “It’s a beautiful name, too. That poor girl had a very troubling life. So many reports came out about that evil brother of hers. I imagine she did the world a favor.”
Sawyer’s mouth drops and then snaps shut, confusion written across her face. My own brows jump, surprised that there was more evidence against her brother and that Sawyer never knew about it. I suppose she avoided looking at anything to do with him at all costs.