Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
PENELOPE
The rest of the drive is quiet; it feels like everyone in the car is holding their breath.
Traffic moves normally, thank God. Minxy stays tucked against Talon’s side, her fingers clutched in his hoodie.
His glasses slide down his nose every time he leans to whisper to her, but he never pushes them up, he just breathes against her hair and holds her together.
“You’re safe. I’m here. I’ve got you.”
Each phrase hits me square in the chest.
I adjust my grip on the steering wheel, keeping my eyes on the road and the rear-view mirror at the same time. Minxy’s eyes meet mine once, then dart away. She’s studying everything, smart girl, she’s not trusting anyone or anything and taking in her surroundings.
“We’re almost there,” I tell her.
She nods without lifting her head from Talon’s shoulder.
Talon’s breathing is uneven, and his leg bounces erratically, stops, and starts again. His entire body looks like it’s vibrating with adrenaline.
When we turn onto my street, Minxy straightens just a little. I see her eyes flick between houses, between manicured lawns and basketball hoops.
“We’re going inside together,” I promise. “No surprises.”
She nods again. “You live by the college campus?”
“I do, I’m also a student there. Your brother lives in the dorms, but I live off campus.” I park and kill the engine. For a moment, no one moves. Then I open my door, and the spell breaks.
“Come on,” I say, keeping my voice even.
Gideon exits first, scanning the street. Nothing, just a quiet block where nothing bad is supposed to happen. Talon helps his sister out of the backseat. She hesitates, eyes on the curb, wide like she’s worried the ground won’t hold her weight.
“It’s okay,” I say gently. “You can come in. I promise we’re not taking you back, and Abi doesn’t know where you are.”
She steps closer to me than I expected. Talon stays glued to her other side, ready to catch her if she falls. Inside, she pauses again in the entryway. Not frozen—waiting. For permission.
“Talon,” she whispers, “am I allowed to go in?”
My throat tightens.
“You don’t need permission here,” I tell her. “This is your home for as long as you want it.”
She blinks several times, then walks slowly into the living room. Her fingers skim the back of my couch, then the corner of a pillow, then the frame of a photo on the shelf—a picture of me and my dad at some stupid fair five years ago. She lingers on it longer than anything else.
“You look like him,” she says quietly.
I swallow the lump in my throat. “Yeah. I do.”
Talon’s hand trembles when he lets go of her. The moment she settles onto the couch, his body sags, like tension is leaking out of him too fast to manage.
“That’s the guy Abi is engaged to? Your dad?”
“Yup. But I’m not letting that wedding happen,” I tell her honestly.
“You shouldn’t,” she hisses. “He’ll end up like all the rest.”
I don’t know what that means, but we all have a pretty good idea. Which is exactly why she’s not at that school anymore, and no way in hell is my dad marrying Abi.
Talon heads into the kitchen, bracing his palms against the counter. His shoulders heave once, twice. It’s not a sob; it’s deeper. Something that’s been sitting inside of him since his dad died.
I step up behind him and wrap my arms around him, laying my head against his back. “Hey. You did it.”
He lowers his head. “I didn’t know if we could.”
“We did.” My voice softens. “And she’s safe because of you.”
His breath hitches. He turns and buries his face against my neck, arms looping tight around my waist. I hold him just as hard, feeling the tremble in his spine.
“I thought I lost her,” he whispers.
“You didn’t,” I tell him. “And you’re not losing her again.”
When he finally releases me, his eyes are red but steady.
“Let’s go back,” he murmurs.
We step into the living room together.
Silas looks too big for my couch. His hair is mussed from the drive, a few blond curls falling over his brow. Minxy fits into his side like she belongs there, his arm curved around her protectively, the veins in his hand standing out from how tightly he’s holding her.
Gideon stands nearby, scanning the windows, the hallway, the door—everything.
For the first time since this began, the five of us occupy the same space. Breathing the same air. Holding the same fear. And the same relief.
I sit beside Minxy’s feet. She reaches unconsciously toward me, fingertips brushing my knee. The trust in that tiny touch nearly undoes me.
It lasts maybe fifteen seconds.
Then Gideon’s phone buzzes.
He glances at the screen, frowns, and steps away to read the message fully. His expression shifts.
Silas straightens.
“What happened?” he asks quietly.
Gideon looks up.
“My contact at the school. St. Helen’s called Riverview,” he says. “They wanted confirmation Minxy completed her appointment.”
Silas’ jaw locks. “And?”
“Riverview said she never made it to Radiology. Never checked back in. Nothing in the logs.” Gideon pockets his phone. “So they escalated it.”
Minxy sits up fast, eyes wide. “Escalated?” she whispers.
Gideon nods. “The clinic logged her as unaccounted for. Per protocol, St. Helen’s was notified.”
Talon’s breath punches out of him.
“And now Abi’s been alerted,” Gideon continues. “She didn’t wait. She called the school immediately and asked where her daughter was.”
Silas mutters a curse under his breath. “They think she disappeared inside the clinic.”
“Exactly,” Gideon says. “They don’t suspect us. But they know Minxy is missing. And they’re moving fast.”
Minxy tucks into herself, arms wrapped around her ribs.
“Is she coming?” she asks.
“No,” Silas answers firmly. “You’re not going back. Not tonight. Not ever.”
Gideon checks the deadbolt. “We stay inside and act normal. If Abi calls, we answer. If your dad calls, Penelope, you answer and keep your cool.”
Minxy peers between us. “Are we safe?”
I move closer until my thigh touches her shin. “Yes,” I say. “You’re safe here.”
Silas adjusts his stance, muscles coiled tight again.
“Tonight we lay low,” he states. “Tomorrow we decide what comes next.”
Gideon nods once. “No one leaves. Not until we know how hard Abi’s pushing.”
Talon slides down beside Minxy, shoulder pressed to hers again. And in that room—with every lock secured, every window checked, every breath measured—I understand something with absolute clarity:
We didn’t just rescue Minxy.
We lit a fuse.
And Abi just smelled the smoke.
My stomach growls so loudly Talon glances over.
Minxy lifts her head. “When’s dinner?”
The question is small and hoarse, but it’s the first non-trauma sentence she’s offered since we left the clinic.
“I can make something,” I start, pushing myself up.
“No,” Gideon says. “You don’t need to do that tonight. We’re ordering.”
“Chinese?” Minxy asks, voice wavering but hopeful.
Talon rubs her shoulder. “You want Chinese?”
She nods. “Mom always said it was junk and wouldn’t let us.”
Silas snorts. “Then we’re definitely getting Chinese.”
“Agreed,” Gideon says, already pulling out his phone. “What do you want, Minx?”
Her brows pinch. “All of it?”
Talon laughs softly. “Narrow it down.”
“I want sweet and sour chicken,” she says. “And rice. And crab rangoon. And dumplings. And those little donut things.”
Gideon’s mouth twitches. “You’re my kind of girl.”
She lifts her chin at him, testing how far she can go. “I’m not a girl. I’m a teenager.”
“Same energy,” he says dryly.
Her lips curve. It’s tiny but real.
I sit beside her. “You can have everything you want.”
She nods, then glances up at Talon like she’s checking to see if she’s allowed joy.
He tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. “You deserve a feast.”
When the food arrives forty minutes later, Minxy opens a box like she’s unwrapping treasure. The second she bites into a crab rangoon, her eyes go wide.
“Oh my God,” she chokes. “Why did Mom say this was garbage? This is amazing.”
Silas lifts a container. “She lies. Frequently.”
“She’s a bitch,” Minxy says, then freezes like she’s broken a rule.
Talon stares at her. Then he bursts into laughter that sounds too sharp and too relieved. “Say it again,” he tells her.
Minxy smiles crookedly. “She’s a bitch.”
Gideon raises his carton like a toast. “Here’s to honesty.”
We settle around the coffee table, eating straight from containers. No plates, no rules; it’s messy and loud and a little chaotic.
Minxy relaxes. Her shoulders lower. Her face loses its pinched look. She curls her legs under her and starts demolishing dumplings like she’s on a mission.
Halfway through dinner, she goes quiet. Not the shut-down quiet. The processing kind.
I put my carton down. “What’s going on in that head?”
She swallows, wipes her mouth, and looks at all of us in turn.
“I want to tell you what happened,” she says. “Why she sent me to that prison of a school.”
Talon sets his food aside instantly. “You don’t have to tonight. You’re safe. There’s no rush.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t want to keep this secret anymore.”
Silas sits forward. Gideon pushes his food away too.
I nod. “Okay. Whenever you’re ready.”
Minxy takes a breath so deep it shudders on the way out.
“It was Todd,” she begins. “The night…” She stops, blinking hard. “The night he disappeared.”
Talon’s jaw clenches. He looks like he might break the chopsticks in his hand.
Minxy keeps going.
“I heard them arguing,” she says. “Mom and Todd. She was yelling about money. Todd said something about being tired of cleaning up her messes.” She picks at a loose thread on her sleeve.
“Mom said if he didn’t sign the papers, she’d lose everything.
Todd told her to let him handle it, but she said she didn’t trust him to ‘finish it cleanly.’ They went back and forth and then…
” She swallows hard. “I heard a crash, then something fell. Something big. And then nothing.”
Silas goes still.
Gideon’s eyes sharpen like a blade catching light.
Talon breathes through his nose in a ragged rhythm.
Minxy’s voice breaks again. Her hands tremble as she grips her sweatshirt.
“Ten minutes later, Mom walked into my room. Calm. She told me Todd had an accident. She said he’d been drinking and slipped. She told me not to go downstairs. She said I didn’t need to see him like that.”
Talon’s breath leaves him in a silent, violent exhale.
Gideon rises and goes to the window like he needs to burn holes in the dark.
Silas presses his knuckles to his mouth.
She tucks her knees up to her chest. “That was when I realized something else. Something bigger.”
Gideon turns slowly. “What else?”
Minxy looks at Talon first, like she’s afraid to say it.
“It wasn’t just Todd,” she whispers. “Mom killed Dad too.”
Talon’s face drains of color.
“She shot him and made it look like suicide. I heard her talking about it a few days later to someone. She thought I was asleep.”
Gideon looks like he’s about to break the table in half. Silas closes his eyes, like knowing the truth is physically painful.
Minxy hugs her knees tighter. “I didn’t understand at first. I thought they were talking about how sad Mom was. I didn’t know they meant she’d staged everything. Until…”
Her voice drops even lower.
“Until I found Randy.”
Gideon’s head snaps toward her. “Randy? You talked to him?”
Minxy nods.
“Who’s Randy?” I ask.
“Randy was my mom’s boyfriend in between Todd and your dad. They dated for a while, and he proposed, but then he broke it off, and we never saw him again.” Talon rubs a hand over his face and through his hair.
“Mom told us he ran off too, but he didn’t. He moved out of state. I found him online, messaged him, and he agreed to talk. He said Mom drained his accounts and tried to get rid of him too. He said she was dangerous. That Talon and I would never be safe with her. But he couldn’t help.”
She swallows hard.
“I confronted Mom the next morning. I asked about Dad. And Todd. And Randy.”
“What did she do?” Penelope asks softly.
Minxy’s face twists. “She laughed. She told me I was imagining things. She said I was crazy.” Her voice cracks. “And she sent me to St. Helen’s the next day.”
Talon drags her into his arms before she folds in on herself. She collapses against him, tears hitting his hoodie in fast, silent drops.
“You’re not alone,” he whispers. “You’re not alone anymore. I promise.”
Gideon returns and crouches in front of her. His voice is low and steady. “We’re going to make sure you never go back there. We’re going to get justice for Todd and Dominic.”
Silas rests a hand on Talon’s shoulder, then Minxy’s. “They don’t get to own your story anymore.”
I slide closer and tuck a blanket around her legs. “Or your fear.”
Minxy sniffles. “I didn’t know if you’d believe me.”
“We do,” Talon says.
Silas nods. “Every word.”
Gideon’s jaw works once, tight. “You survived her. You outsmarted her. That takes guts.”
She studies him through red-rimmed eyes. “Are you going to tell the police?”
“Eventually,” he says. “But not before you’re safe. Not before we have everything nailed down.”
Minxy exhales and leans into Talon again. “I’m tired.”
“You can sleep,” I tell her. “We’re all here.”
She curls under Talon’s arm again, already half-asleep, dumpling crumbs on her sweatshirt. Talon keeps stroking her hair, his face tight with grief and love and something like fire.
Gideon rises and surveys the room again, posture firm.
Silas moves back to the window.
I take a place beside the couch, keeping one eye on Minxy and one on the door.
Minxy didn’t just give us details. She gave us motive. She gave us the truth. She gave us the final piece of the story Abi has been hiding behind for years.
She gave us a reason to end this.
And we will.
Because Minxy isn’t broken.
She’s brave.
And we’re going to burn down anyone who ever made her think she wasn’t.