When she speaks, her words are clear, her head held high. “I don’t know your part in all of this, but my husband says you helped Annie, and for that I am forever in your debt.”

I smile, meeting Annie’s eyes. She flashes me a winning smile. “I was happy to do what I could to help. But I do have a favor to ask, if I may.”

Her eyes sharpen, suspicion present in their depths. “I figured as much. What is it?”

“My anonymity. I couldn’t think of an easy way to return Annie, without leaving her somewhere with people who I’d be unfamiliar with. Your husband was kind enough to meet me here without involving the police, but if you could keep details about me private, I would greatly appreciate it.”

She waits, her eyes locked on mine, but then finally speaks. “That’s it? Anonymity is all that you’re asking for?”

I grimace, torn. “Certain actions I took in the rescue of Annie you might not appreciate later. You will understand more in a few hours. I apologize in advance for any pain that I have caused your family. Please know that I, for the most part, acted with Annie’s welfare in mind.” I pause. “I don’t want to put you in an uncomfortable situation or ask you to lie. But if there is a way to avoid sharing details of my involvement, I would certainly appreciate it.”

The mother looks back at her daughter, cradled in her husband’s arms. “I appreciate your actions in a way that can never be repaid. If that is all you ask, I can certainly honor those requests.”

I smile at her, the action catching her off-guard, and she is hesitant in returning the gesture. Annie interrupts our exchange, jumping off her father’s lap and running to me, holding her hands up and reaching for the kitten. I lean down, her arms wrap around my neck. “Thank you,” she whispers in my ear. Then she carefully takes the kitten, cradling it in her arms and pets it softly. Her mother looks at me questioningly.

“Sorry. I couldn’t say no.” I smile sheepishly at her and she grins in response.

“I wouldn’t have been able to either,” she murmurs, watching Annie carry the kitten back to her father, placing it on his lap.

“I need to go. She is a wonderful child. You have done a wonderful job of raising her.” I nod at both of them, the father holding out his hands to me, and I walk over to him. Bending over, I accept the hug he offers, surprised at the strength in which he grips me.

“Thank you,” he whispers in my ear. “We will forever be in your debt.” I straighten, running a gentle hand over Annie’s hair, then turn and head back to the truck, open the door and climb in. I watch them for a moment, the mother crouched next to the wheelchair, the three of them talking excitedly. Then I put the truck in reverse and back up. I am pulling forward when I hear a shout. I look up to see the woman running to the truck. I roll down my window and look at her, worried that something is wrong.

“Were you the girl? The one who called the hotline?”

I pause, my indecision answering her question. Her mouth tightens and her eyes close tightly. “So, it was Michael? My Michael?”

“Yes. But I don’t think he did anything to her. She was tied up when I found her. Unharmed.”

“But you told the police … you think he was planning …” her voice falters, and she grips the truck window tightly.

“If he planned on doing what he discussed with me … that is why I came for her. Why I did what I did.” I close my eyes, squeezing the steering wheel tightly. “I’m sorry.” I open my eyes, hating to look into hers, hating the disbelief and judgment I will see there.

There was only strength in her eyes, and she meets mine squarely. “Honey, I don’t know what you did to him, and I don’t care. Blood doesn’t excuse evil. You stopped what needed to be stopped.” She nods at me once, and then steps back, walking back to her family and swinging Annie up onto her hip. They turn toward me and wave together, and I wave back and pull out, hitting the highway and heading toward home, if my one room prison can be called that.

CHAPTER 57: The end of JessReilly19

Life was never the same after that day. The darkness that had plagued my life for four years was gone, disappearing when I sank that knife into Ralph’s neck. I felt it fully lift, tangible in its freedom, about three hours after I left that church parking lot. I don’t know whether Ralph actually died. I like to believe that my wound was shallow enough to be non-fatal. I like to believe that the ambulance got there quickly enough to save his life. I calculated the minutes several times during my long drive home. From the moment of stab until the time that rescue would have arrived was approximately twenty minutes, give or take a few. A lot of bad can happen in twenty minutes, but at the same time, a fighter with a shallow wound could easily hold on for that long.

I no longer cam. I listed all of my equipment, sans the toys, on eBay and made a whopping total of two thousand dollars for about fifty grand worth of stuff. A travesty, but one I didn’t dwell on. I would have paid to get rid of the stuff, the cleansing act that it was.

Mike did forward me an article that was printed in the Statesboro Times. It described Annie’s rescue and stated that the police thoroughly searched the trailer, finding a cardboard box that contained multiple news clippings along with photos and souvenirs from over eight missing girls. They also found a laptop, the original that Mike had cloned. With the information found on the laptop, they hoped to solve the cases of the missing girls, and bring some closure to their families.