Boy meets girl, girl falls in love, blah-blah-blah.
Let me be clear with you from the beginning. This is not that kind of story.
My name is Cait, and I live in the great city of New York. Okay, so maybe I've only lived here for a week and a half...
"Mija," my dad's voice crackling through the phone snapped me out of my thoughts. "Someone else stepped forward. Frank's behind bars - permanently - and I was able to confess to the police."
"What?" I breathed in disbelief. "What if he does something? What if he has friends on the outside? You need to be careful, papá. Gabriel needs you. I need you."
I could practically hear him rolling his eyes through the phone, his typical response to my anxious rambling. I got it from my mother, he always said, and he would pretend to be annoyed by it every single time. Eventually, I realized that he loved her even more because of her worrying, because it meant that she cared.
"The police have offered me a deal," he told me. "They're dropping charges against me and putting us into witness protection in exchange for my testimony. It--"
"Wait, what?" I interrupted him. "So, this will all be over? You'll be okay?"
He laughed, "Yes, mija. See? All is not lost."
"What abou--"
My dad laughed, interrupting me, "It's okay, mi amor. You can even talk to the agents on our case, if you'd like."
I blinked back tears, letting his words sink in as the rest of the conversation passed in a blur. My family - although at risk - might be okay after all. Frank was in prison, and he would stay there for a very, very long time. As long as my family is safe, nothing else mattered. My dad would be able to atone for what he did without risking his life, and one less criminal would be on the streets of Texas.
I could only hope that everything else would work out like this in the end.
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"Have you talked to Andrew?" Val asked, munching on a bag of M&Ms.
Ever since the 'incident,' as we've taken to calling it, she's been nervously munching on chocolate twenty-four seven. She claims it's because she realized that life is short so why worry about calories, but I think it helps with her anxiety. I'd rather have her turning to chocolate than alcohol, however, and I definitely don't have any room to talk.
"Nope," I said, holding out my hand for more of the multi-colored candies. "I've texted him, called him - I even sent him a message on Instagram."
She frowned, "Has he posted recently?"
"Nothing," I shook my head. "I even checked out all of the magazine articles about the incident, but no one connected to him has said a single thing. I think Jazmin is keeping a tight lid on it."
"That girl has a gift," Val said before tossing back a red M&M.
I agreed. She was a wonderful publicist, and she clearly had Andrew's best interests at heart, but it wasn't exactly the best thing for me. Now that Danielle was behind bars, and my lawyer insisted that she would stay there, it meant that I could actually talk to Andrew again without fear of repercussion.
