Chapter 24 Thomas
THOMAS
Hannah is still fast asleep when I wake up, so I crawl out of bed as silently as I can. I try to get Arson to come with me, but of course, he wants nothing to do with me. He curls up closer to her, leaving me in the dust.
I head downstairs, grabbing a granola bar from the pantry and sliding my shoes on before heading outside.
My watch tells me it’s past four o’clock in the afternoon, and the sun beats down on the pond in the distance.
It’s probably a good thing I woke up when I did, because I want to get back on a normal sleep schedule as soon as possible.
Even though I switch between working night shift and day shift often, it doesn’t make switching back and forth easier by any means.
I make my way over to the swings hanging from the trees, and sit carefully on one, slowly swinging back and forth.
I haven’t really taken the time myself to process this.
It feels like I’ve been running for the last two days, my body functioning on pure adrenaline only, and now that we’re in the safe house, I can let myself feel the weight of this situation.
Worry eats at me as I think of Henry. Did he make it out of surgery?
What is his healing process going to be?
So many unanswered questions settle in my gut.
The case that I’ve spent so much time and emotional effort on is now in the hands of others, and I don’t know how to reconcile it. I know that for my safety it’s best that I’m here, but it is hard being so far away when I’ve put so much work into the case.
I feel useless here, knowing that back home the department is down two people in the middle of an active investigation that just took a turn.
Henry was spearheading the investigation into finding the head of the trafficking circle, and now they have a name and potentially even more after Henry was shot by one of Chaz’s lackeys.
What if someone else is on their “list”? Or, with me being gone, will they replace me with someone else to kill?
Not only am I worried about my fellow co-workers, but I’m also petrified for my family.
Having no contact with them is brutal, especially with Josie being due with the baby in the next few weeks.
I played it off earlier, but I fucking miss my family already, and it hasn’t even been two days.
What if something happens to Gramps when I’m gone? Will they try to contact me?
God, this sucks. It’s selfish of me, I know it is, but I’m so thankful that I have Hannah with me. At least I know that she is safe and healthy. That’s one person I would have worried most about, especially with her being a prime witness to the shooting.
A dragonfly appears in my line of vision, circling for a moment before landing on my shoe. Some small memory tugs at the back of my mind, perhaps something from my childhood at the sight of this dragonfly. Its blue, almost holographic coloring shines in the sunlight.
I shift my foot so I can get a better look at it. I move slowly, hoping I don’t scare it off, and thankfully, it stays put. When I get a look at it from a different angle, the niggling memory hits me right in the face.
Grandma Irene loved finding the symbolism in little things, and she scattered these things through the home she and Gramps shared.
Butterfly figurines, sunflowers when they were in season, and bouquets of a variety of flowers in the vase on the kitchen table, each with a different meaning, which she always made sure to explain to us.
She passed away back when I was in my early twenties, but I remember so many details of her that I’m surprised it didn’t hit me right away. The dragonfly stays put on the toe of my shoe, and maybe it’s stupid, but I feel like this dragonfly is trying to show me something, tell me something.
She had a dragonfly brooch that she’d wear every Sunday during family brunches. It was blue, like this one, and she would always explain to us that they symbolize change, and that change, while it can be scary, can also be good. She would tell us how open she was to change.
Perhaps this is a sign from my grandma. Life is changing for me, right this very moment, and even though I think I’m open to it, maybe it’s a reminder that even though change is scary, it can be good.
So yeah, this change is scary as hell, and missing my family and my life is hard, but I’ve also got this amazing woman by my side who could change my life for the better, and I can’t wait to see what that change could bring.