23 He Protected Me (2/2)

”You are not the problem, Evie,” he said suddenly after a long moment of silence. ”You are simply in a problem and you need help getting out of it.” He glanced at me to see if I was listening to him.

'But I am the problem.'

”You are not the problem,” he repeated, reading my mind. ”I will drop you home.”

I sat silently by his side, wondering how much he knew.

”Come over to my place if you need to, at any time.” I looked around to see that we had already reached the apartment that I was staying in.

”Thank you. I don't think I will be going over.” I told him pointedly.

”Drink some warm milk, wrap yourself in a blanket and try to get some sleep. The first crime scene can be overwhelming.” He seemed unbothered by my declaration.

”I won't be needing your help.”

”Ah, there are some official matters we need to resolve before I can free you from your obligations. I will call you.” He ushered me out and waited as I made my way across the street and into the building. I looked back to see the car standing there, waiting for me to go inside.

I waved my arm at him even though I was embarrassed. I rushed away and entered the apartment.

Everything felt so foreign.

Everything felt so cold.

Mr. Butler's words played over and over in my mind as I glared at the wall.

I got up at a languid pace and dragged myself to the kitchen. A glass of milk and blanket accompanied me to bed.

Haunting images of the girl flashed before my eyes.

I had seen this face before in the mirror.

Years ago.

And I had dreaded this day.

I cuddled into the pillow, trying to concentrate on the warmth of the milk now residing in my stomach. I slowly faded into darkness as I tried to ignore the prickling sensation of being watched… or being touched.

I breathed heavier.

My eyes drooped.

And I thanked Mr. Butler for protecting me.

”You are not the problem.” He had said. And he had believed it.

I wanted to believe it, too. How long would it take me to get there?