30. Chapter 30
Halloween evening
Her parents’ house was silent in a way that felt earned.
Maddie stood in the entryway, just inside the door of her childhood home—her house, technically, though it hadn’t felt like it until recently.
The scent hit her first. Fresh paint. Clean wood.
Something citrusy. The faint hint of pine from the new floor polish.
She toed off her sneakers, the soles landing on real hardwood—not the cracked vinyl that had lined this entry for years. The walls, once dingy beige, now gleamed in soft pearl-gray. New crown molding. New trim. New light fixtures. New life.
Heath had done this. Quietly. Deliberately. Without asking for anything in return.
She padded through the house, fingertips skimming along smooth drywall. The kitchen caught her breath. She remembered the rusted faucet, the warped cabinet doors, the broken drawer she used to shove shut with her hip.
Now? Shiplap backsplash. Sleek marble countertops. A farmhouse sink so deep she could bathe in it.
She opened a cabinet, then another. Lined. Organized. She had never seen this kitchen complete, not even in her childhood. And now it was perfect.
She wandered up the stairs. Every step creaked less. Every surface gleamed more. The master bedroom door was slightly ajar. She pushed it open.
Her old room.
Now it felt like someone had finally pulled the covers back on her life and said, Start fresh.
The mirror above the vanity was new. Wide. Clean. Framed in whitewashed wood.
Maddie looked at herself.
Not flinching. Not seeing bruises. Not haunted. Just—her.
Hair up. Skin healing. Eyes clear.
A woman who survived. A woman who wanted more.
She exhaled.
Then smiled.
“It’s time,” she whispered. “I’m ready to sell you, old girl.”
She rested a hand against the wall.
“Thanks for holding me together for this long.”
And then she turned and walked downstairs, keys already in her hand.
She had a new home to move into.
As Maddie found her way outside, locking the front door, she heard the voice of Detective Naomi Camrose behind her.
“How you doing, Maddie?” Naomi said, walking up the driveway.
“I’m good, thanks.” Maddie turned to her, pulling her bag up her shoulder. “Thanks for everything.”
“Just glad you are safe. He’s not getting out anytime soon.”
“How long?” she asked.
Naomi lifted a brow. “Well, the courts tend to these situations pretty seriously.”
“Is he still at county?”
“Yeah. Arraignment is scheduled for next week. No bail set. And before you ask: yes, we’ve already filed a protective order.
You’ll get a personal escort if you have to testify.
And his hospital contract has been shredded.
They released a statement this morning. Code of conduct, staff and patient safety, all that jazz. ”
Maddie let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.
Naomi watched her carefully. “You still want to testify?”
“Yeah,” Maddie said. Then again, firmer. “Yes. He doesn’t get to vanish without being named. People like that hide because they count on silence.”
Naomi gave a small smile. “You’re braver than most.”
“No,” Maddie said. “Just done being scared.”
Naomi started to turn. “You know you’ve got so many people behind you, right? Me. Sandra. Heath. Apparently, the entire platoon. Hell, even Zach—though I’m still trying to figure out what his deal is.”
Maddie smirked. “You and me both.”
Naomi leaned a hip against the counter. “Anything you need, Maddie. You say the word.”
She nodded. And for the first time, really meant it when she said: “I will.”
* * * * *
The Carringtons’ backyard was lit up like a pumpkin patch that had exploded. Twinkle lights, carved gourds, fake cobwebs strung between lawn chairs. Kids darted around in costume, screaming with sticky fingers and smeared face paint. A Bluetooth speaker warbled out "Monster Mash" at half-volume.
Maddie stood near the drink table, her half-assed costume—a lab coat over black leggings, stethoscope borrowed from work—making her feel half-dork, half-functional adult. She had pumpkin earrings, though. She committed that much.
Hayley showed up first. Petite. Vibrant. With wild auburn waves and a baby slung on her hip.
“You must be Maddie,” she said with a grin. “Jesse has been talking about you. All good things. I mean, I assume. He only uses, like, three adjectives.”
Maddie laughed, eyes landing on the baby. “And this must be Chester.”
Chester, a round-cheeked boy with Heath’s hair and Hayley’s smile, blinked up at her and then sneezed directly on her shoulder.
“He likes you,” Hayley deadpanned. “That’s basically a baby blessing.”
Jesse ambled up behind her with two ciders and a tray of cupcakes. “Heath made me promise to keep her away from the frosting until Bella picked hers.”
Speaking of—
Bella Carrington came flying past them with a black cat costume and three stolen cupcakes stuffed in her shirt. “Don’t tell Dad!” she shrieked.
Behind her: Heath. Cowboy hat. Jeans. Juice box in one hand, Jake clinging to the other.
He caught Maddie’s eye and winked. Her stomach fluttered.
Natalie stumbled by with a thermos and said, entirely too loudly, “Cider is my religion!” and then tripped over a pumpkin.
Adam pulled her upright. “That one had a cork in it, didn’t it?”
“Adam,” Maddie said, giving him a nod. “You look serious. More than usual.”
He leaned in, sotto voce. “You want David to disappear? I’ll handle it. No paperwork. Just the nod.”
Maddie smirked. “Tempting.”
Adam looked over her shoulder. “Offer stands.”
Lila cackled loudly from the fire pit. “I heard that!”
Later, as the sun dipped below the trees and turned the sky molten orange, the Halloween chaos finally began to slow.
The yard was littered with empty juice boxes and cupcake wrappers, candy-streaked napkins fluttering like confetti.
Bella had fallen asleep on a chair shaped like a pumpkin, Jake dozing beside her, one arm tossed protectively across his candy bag.
Chester—the world’s most adorable, drool-covered lion cub—was passed out in Hayley’s lap, snoring softly, while Jesse rubbed lazy circles on her back and quietly debated whether waking the baby for a bottle was worth the inevitable scream.
Maddie leaned on the porch railing, cider in hand, watching it all with a soft, stunned sort of gratitude in her chest. A firepit flickered at the center of the yard, giving off just enough heat to keep the evening chill at bay.
Her cheeks hurt from smiling. Natalie was curled up with Adam’s wife on a blanket, definitely drunk, definitely telling a wildly inappropriate story if their laughter was anything to go by.
Adam, seated in a lawn chair like a grumpy suburban warlord, sipped from his thermos with the grim satisfaction of someone who’d survived another social obligation without throwing anyone into the fire.
And near the beer cooler, Heath had just found Zach. Maddie inched closer, listening in.
“You good?” Heath asked, walking over and offering him a cold one.
Zach took it with a nod. “Define good.”
“Functionally not combusting.”
Zach cracked the bottle open with a dull thunk. “Then yeah. I guess.”
Heath leaned back beside him, one elbow resting on the wood. They stood there for a moment, the distant chatter and laughter from the firepit fading under the hum of crickets.
“You ever gonna settle down?” Heath asked, not looking at him.
Zach scoffed. “Not unless it’s with a surfboard and a Baja Blonde.”
There was a pause.
Zach sipped his beer. Then, almost reluctantly: “Though this woman at the La Jolla dive club—Vero. Marine biologist. Drives a Prius like she’s in a demolition derby. She left kelp in my gear bag. Twice.”
Heath turned just enough to side-eye him. “Sounds premeditated.”
“She’s impossible,” Zach muttered. “Says shit like ‘mutualistic symbiosis’ when we argue. Uses words like ‘neurotypical’ unironically. I’m 90% sure she’s planning to murder me via cephalopod.”
“Sounds hot.”
Zach made a face, but didn’t argue. Just took another sip, jaw tight.
“You want her,” Heath said, voice even.
Zach didn’t answer.
Didn’t have to.
Maddie, watching from the porch, caught the whole exchange. Heath’s unreadable expression. Zach’s shoulder tension. The familiar, stubborn silence of two men who didn’t know how to admit a damn thing out loud.
She smiled into her cider.
This was it. Her life now.
Not just survival.
Not just aftermath.
But messy, dumb, delicious, comforting life.
And she wanted every second of it.