“Doesn’t seem like they're going to make me go to jail or anything for killing him,” I say.
Leila shakes her head. “You've already spoken with the officers and the scene at the house corroborates everything you’ve shared.”
“It feels weird that I could do that. And then just not get in trouble.”
“You were defending yourself after years of being held against your will. Thankfully, you were able to get out of a horrific situation. And strangely enough, Horace was obsessed with chronicling so much of what you've been through on surveillance cameras.”
I knew he had video cameras around the house, but I never imagined that they would be used to help prove my story.
Leila puts her recorder in her tote bag and reaches for her jacket.
“So what happens to me next?” I ask.
“Well, it's probably been one of the longer days of your life,” she says. “It's already
after 10 o'clock at night and you've been in this hospital room for so long. Thankfully, I can say with complete confidence you are handling this all very well, and the doctors who have seen you today say you have no concerns physically. You're in strong spirits and your mental faculties are completely intact. You are brave and you are so strong.”
I exhale, feeling relieved to have her say all of that, confirming what I already felt inside.
“I live here in Home,” Leila tells me. “So I will be able to get in touch with you tomorrow and hopefully every day for the next few weeks as we figure out the next steps for you.”
I listen to her, still not quite knowing what that means for me right now.
“But what we need to decide now is where you want to be tonight. There is one option of staying here at the clinic. You could stay here for a week or even longer until we set you up in an apartment through social services. Another option, of course, is the local bed and breakfast. Not sure how comfortable you feel about staying somewhere on your own right now.”
I shake my head. “No, I don't want to do either of those things.”
“Okay,” Leila says slowly. “What do you want, Prairie?”
“Is Rye still here? Rye Rough?”
Leila nods. “Yes. He's been in the lobby all day. Interrogating the nurses and the doctors and the officers about every 15 minutes, wanting an update.”
I smile softly. “Do you know him?’ I ask her. “You said you live here in Home.”
She nods. “Yeah, Rye and I graduated the same year from Home Secondary School.”
“Is he as good a person as he seems?” I ask.
“He's a good guy, though a little rough around the edges,” she says with a laugh. “Pun intended. I mean, he's a little bit of a burly guy with a reputation for being a little gruff. But he has one of the best families in the world. The Roughs look out for each other and they will never let anyone get in the way of that. His parents, Red and Annie, they’re wonderful.”
I nod, already sensing all of this, in ways that make no sense at all.
“When I met him,” I tell Leila, “when I ran to the clearing this morning, I felt like it was fate. Do you believe in that?” I ask her. “In love at first sight?”
Her eyes widen. “Prairie,” she says, shaking her head. “You've had a long day.”
“I know I've had a long day,” I tell her, “but I also know what I feel.”
“You might be confused.”
“You just said I had a clean bill of health. That I was completely of sound mind.”
“That's true,” she says slowly.
I stand. “I’m ready to go home with Rye.”
Leila presses her lips together in a fine line. “You’re in a fragile state.”