Epilogue

ONE MONTH LATER

SYDNEY

I'm juggling two bags of groceries as I unlock the door to my building, and that's when my phone rings.

It's been a month since Gretchen Driscoll and Tom Brewer vanished off the face of the planet. Or at least, that's how it seems. I woke up in the hospital a few hours after the police showed up at my building, still groggy, but incredibly grateful to be alive. When my nurse saw that I was awake, she said to me, "There's a detective who asked me to call him immediately when you woke up."

That was Jake, of course. Even though there was a manhunt in progress, he dropped everything to race over to the hospital to see me. After all this time, several years too late, he had truly figured out how to make time for me.

And it's his name flashing on the screen of my phone right now.

I manage to get inside the door, where a blast of heat greets me. I dump my groceries on the floor of the mail room before taking Jake's call.

"Hey, Syd," he says.

"Hey."

"You have plans tonight?"

He knows I don't have plans. After Tom and Gretchen escaped through the back entrance, the entire police force launched a full-scale manhunt. After all, the strands of hair in Gretchen's toilet linked her to multiple murders, not to mention that of Randall Muncy. The police were desperate to find them. But both of them abandoned their entire lives and vanished into nothingness together.

Jake was only a small part of this manhunt, which eventually included the FBI. But he took on a much more reasonable task. He appointed himself my official bodyguard, "in case they come back."

When he told me that, I challenged him. Not that I didn't want him around, but I reminded him about his busy schedule. He brushed off my concerns. I'm going to make time for what's important.

And he has. He really has.

"I don't have plans," I say as I settle down onto the bench in the mailroom. My frozen TV dinners are all melting, but that's okay. Jake has been bringing in dinner most nights anyway.

"Excellent," Jake says. "I was thinking that, while I'm keeping watch over you tonight, I could bring over some burgers and fries. What do you think?"

Although nothing has happened between us over the last month, we've spent every evening together. I'd forgotten how much I enjoyed his company.

A smile twitches at my lips. "You know," I say, "it's been an entire month. Gretchen and Tom are almost certainly long gone. I don't know if you need to protect me quite so intently anymore. I do have my dead bolt."

"Well, you know, better safe than sorry."

"I'm just not sure it's necessary."

"Oh." Jake is quiet for a moment. "I don't have to do it anymore if you don't want me to. I don't want to bother you, Syd. If you don't want me keeping an eye on you anymore, I don't have to do it."

"I don't," I say.

"Right." He can't mask the disappointment in his voice. "Okay. No problem. I, uh… I'll leave you alone then."

"But…" I shift my phone to my other ear. "If you would like to come over tonight with burgers and fries and spend time with me , that would be okay. In fact, I would like that very much."

I can almost hear him smiling on the other end of the line. "I'd like that too."

I'm giving Jake another chance. He desperately wants it, and I want it too. If there's one good thing to come out of all this, it's our realizing what we lost when our relationship ended. But it's not too late to give it another try.

After all, if Tom and Gretchen can be happy together, why not me and Jake?

Plus, my mother will be thrilled. Hopefully, I'll be able to give her a grandchild a little before I'm ninety.

Jake promises to be over at seven, and I hang up the phone with a smile on my face. I can't wait to see him. Tom never had any chance of being the One, but I'm pretty sure Jake might be it.

I grab my keys again and open my mailbox. There is the usual mix of bills, letters from my college alumni association asking for money, two catalogs advertising a variety of chocolates and one offering lingerie. And there's one other piece of mail that is a little more unexpected. A white envelope with my name on it but no return address.

That's strange.

My name and address are handwritten. The black ink is big and loopy, with all the letters in capitals. I stare at it for a moment, my heart fluttering. I wonder if I should call Jake back and ask him if it's safe to open this mystery letter. But if I do call him, I'm sure he'll make too much of it. He'd probably have a SWAT team here within the hour.

So I rip open the envelope.

And I let out a gasp.

Inside the envelope is a lock of scraggly, dirty-blond hair. Even though I should probably be careful touching anything from this envelope, I can't help but pull it out. From the length of the hair, it looks like it would have fallen just below the shoulders of the owner, and it is tied together with a red ribbon.

What is this? And why was this sent to me?

Maybe I still do need Jake looking out for me.

As I'm trying not to panic, a small, ripped piece of paper flutters out of the envelope. It falls to the ground, face down. Before I can stop myself, I grab the piece of paper. The writing on it is identical to that on the envelope. I sink back down onto the bench as I read the words that the sender has written:

Sydney,

Kevin won't be bothering you ever again.

—Tom

I stare down at the note that Tom wrote to me about the man who had attacked and stalked me for months. I had assumed that he and Gretchen were halfway across the globe by now. But maybe not. I can't help but remember the last words the two of them exchanged before they took off.

Nobody else dies, Daisy.

Even if they deserve it?

Well, that's different, of course.

Apparently, Tom thought Kevin deserved it.

I frown down at the note. I should save this to show Jake. I should definitely save this. Even after everything Kevin did to me, did he really deserve to die? There should be justice for his murder, just like anyone else's.

Right?

I sit on the bench, staring at the note for much too long. Finally, I slip it and the hair back in the envelope, doing my best to seal it closed once again. And then I toss it in the trash before heading upstairs to my apartment to get ready for dinner.

THE END