“Yeah, I bet you do. It's probably the fucking crew up at the cabin corroborating her story. So youshouldtake it and then come back and tell me what you heard.”
Graham glares at me as he leaves and I pull out my phone, calling my father.
“Hey, Dad,” I say.
“How do you have reception at the cabin?” he asks.
“I'm not at the cabin. I'm here at urgent care in Home.”
“Are you okay?”
“Well, something happened.” I briefly explain what's going on.
“That why there are helicopters overhead and news reporters lining up on the streets around town?”
Damn. “I guess this story is a big one.” Already my stomach twists for Prairie. I don’t know how she will handle all of this. How would anyone? “Is Mom with you?”
“No, I've got Cash here. We are just around the corner at the office.”
“Cash?” My cousin Cash Rowdy is with my father on a workday? “What's he doing with you?”
My father clears his throat. “He's working with me, son. I figured with you gone for a few weeks, I might as well call in Cash to lend a hand.”
Why should I be surprised?
I end the phone call, trying to piece together how I feel about Cash taking my place. I love my cousin. Cash is a fuckin asshole, but then again, so am I. And he's a good enough guy. We're the same age and grew up together, just on different mountains. He's Rowdy, I'm Rough, but we're blood through and through.
Dad and Cash show up, same time as Graham makes his way back into the lobby of the urgent care.
“So was Prairie telling the truth?” I ask him, already knowing the answer but I want to make him come out and say it.
Graham nods gravely. “That girl hasn't just been through hell and back. She's been through the goddamn wringer. She wasn't lying about any of it, Rye. She's been chained to a post in a bedroom for years. I mean, officers have only been up there for an hour, but what they've seen…” He shakes his head, losing his words.
“Graham,” my father says. “Looks like you've seen a ghost.”
“Prairie is gonna need some serious help,” Graham says. “And Rye, if you care about her—”
My father looks at me. “Care about her? I thought she was just a girl you found and brought into town for help. What does he mean,care?”
Graham and I give one another a hard look. Graham seems to understand that how I care about Prairie is bigger than that. Different. More.
She’s not just some girl I helped.
Truth is, she's the woman who's saving me.
6
PRAIRIE
By the timeI’ve finished explaining my story to Leila, the social worker assigned to me, I’m exhausted. I take a sip of water as she presses stop on her recording device.
“Prairie, I want to thank you so much for your vulnerability. You’re an incredibly strong woman. That's the biggest thing I want you to leave this room knowing today. You are a survivor.”
“I know,” I tell her. “I feel like a survivor. I don't feel like a victim.”
Her eyes are soft as she looks at me. She's only been with me for a few hours. But in that short amount of time, I feel like she has gotten a good idea of what I've been through.
My days were pretty redundant so there were not a lot of details I needed to explain. I woke up, played the part of Marjorie and Horace’s daughter and I went to bed. There were some days that were worse, but for the most part, it was a lot of the same. They never hurt me, never touched me—it was the chain and the monotony that made it so horrific.