I ’m going to bed,” Jessie said.
It was nearly two months since the rescue and Jessie was staying for the weekend. She and Rachel had just finished a game of gin rummy, Rachel the victor. Jessie rose from the sofa, stretching her arms and yawning.
Donovan, who sat in his favorite armchair working a crossword puzzle-one he fully intended to finish-looked up at her.
Her therapist had told him she was making good progress, but, to Donovan, she still looked frail. Vulnerable.
“It’s kinda early,” he said. “You feeling okay?”
Jessie heaved an exasperated sigh. “I’m fine, Dad. Rachel, will you please tell soon-to-be-ex-agent Donovan here to stop worrying about me all the time?”
“A lot of good it’ll do,” Rachel said, gathering up the cards. “You go on to bed. I’ll keep him occupied.” She reached across and stroked Donovan’s knee.
“Gross,” Jessie said, then leaned down and gave Donovan a hug. “Love you, Dad.”
The words were like a song. He smiled. “Me, too, kiddo.”
Watching her head toward her room, he thought about what they’d been through and how deeply he loved her.
She was fine. She’d be okay. There was nothing to worry about.
A year from now, that prom photo he’d wondered about as he stood inside Grandma Luke’s apartment would adorn his mantel. And many more would follow.
The nightmare was over.
Finally over.