After she'd caught her breath, Lyla walked the neighborhood until she was certain that her dad had arrived at home. The sight of his car parked in the driveway brought much-needed relief. She climbed the porch steps and went inside.
From the entryway, she peeked into the kitchen and saw her dad at the stove tending to chicken sizzling in the skillet. He glanced over his shoulder and asked, "Could you set the table?"
"Sure." She went to the cupboard and retrieved two dinner plates.
"So, where'd you go?"
She folded napkins and set them next to the plates.
"Just out. For a walk."
Ryan dumped the green beans from a pan on the stovetop into a serving bowl and carried it to the table. He removed a couple of baked potatoes from the microwave.
Lyla grabbed some silverware from the drawer and took a seat.
"You want any applesauce?" he asked as he placed a platter of chicken on the table.
"No, I'm good." She impaled a piece of chicken with her fork and brought it to her plate.
"So, what's got you so down?"
After an uncomfortable pause, she confided, "You know that guy I introduced you to? Jack?"
Her dad nodded.
"His girlfriend found out that we were hanging out together and she broke up with him."
"Why was he hanging out with you if he had a girlfriend?"
"It's not like that. We were just hanging out."
"Uh-huh," her dad said, his voice laced with skepticism. He sliced open his baked potato and added a pat of butter.
"He's the quarterback of our football team. Well, he was. And his girlfriend looks like a Victoria's Secret model."
"Ex-girlfriend."
"So why would a guy like that even—"
"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!" Her dad leaned in. "Listen, Lyla. You need to stop all this negativity."
She looked at her plate.
"You're smart, you're pretty, you're tough. You have a lot going for you."
Her dad had always been her biggest fan. She was his princess, always would be.
"Guys like that can smell low self-esteem a mile away," he continued.
"Jack's not like that."
Ryan rolled his eyes. He jabbed a few green beans with his fork and brought them to his mouth.
"He's not. If it wasn't for Jack, who knows what would have happened to me at that party?"
"What do you mean?"
"I told you. Keenan put something in my drink. And then he attacked me. There's no way I could've defended myself."
Ryan put down his silverware and clasped his hands, clearly upset.
"Jack saved me. He and I barely said two words to each other up until that night. I don't think he even knew my name. But he saw that I was in trouble at that party and he made sure I was okay. Jack's a good guy, Dad. A really good guy."
Ryan thought about it for a minute. "You don't think he had anything to do with Keenan's disappearance, do you?"
"Wait. What?! Jack?! No!"
"What about when you got back to the party? Did those two get into it?"
"Keenan wasn't there."
"You're sure?"
"I'm positive! I was scared to death that he would be there waiting for me. But everybody at the party told me he left. His car was gone."
"You haven't seen or heard from Keenan since that night, have you?"
"No."
"Tell me the truth, Lyla." He offered a gentle smile. "I'm not going to turn you over to the cops."
She drew lines in her baked potato with her fork. "The last time I ever saw Keenan was at that party. And I hope I never see him again."
"That makes two of us."
Ryan got up from his chair, walked around the table to a position behind Lyla, and gave her a hug. "Don't sell yourself short, kid," he said. "You're an amazing young lady."
When he gently kissed the top of her head it brought tears to Lyla's eyes. There was no way she could ever tell her dad what she'd done. It would absolutely devastate him.