The Redemption of Callie & Kayden

head on my pillow. I nuzzle my face against his chest, breathing in the scent of him as I hug my notebook. I listen to his heart in his chest and shut my eyes and inhale and exhale with the sound of it.
    “Callie,” he says after a long stretch of silence has gone by.
    I inch my face closer to him and place a kiss on his chest. “Yeah.”
    “I think the leaves made it back to the trees.”

Epilogue
    Three Weeks Later…
Kayden
    Virginia is a pretty nice place, green, with lots of trees and wildlife roaming around. It’s a little warmer than in Wyoming. At least from what I can tell. I’ve only been here for about an hour and most of the time I was stuck in the airport. I flew out alone, even though Callie wanted to come with me. As much as I wanted her to, I didn’t need to disrupt her life and her progress. “I’m only going out for a week,” I told her. “And I think it might be something I need to do alone.” She seemed a little hurt, but she understood and let me go without any more discussion of it.
    After a very strange, somewhat awkward reunion with my brother at baggage claim, we got in his midsize SUV and headed out to the freeway. He looks a lot like me, only older with thinning hair and fewer scars on his face. He’s dressed in slacks and a polo shirt and the inside of his car smells like fast-food.
    We keep the conversation light for about the first ten minutes, talking about school and his family, and then suddenly I have to know.
    “Why didn’t you ever call?” I ask, holding onto the handle of the door for support.
    He looks at me with the same green eyes as mine. “I tried to, but mom and dad changed the number when I left. And then when I did get it, they would never answer and if they did they would hang up. I wanted to get ahold of you after you moved out… but I don’t know… life just kind of got in the way.” He pauses and his hands grip the steering wheel and he forces a lump down in his throat. “How bad was it?”
    I shrug, staring out at the warehouse lining the side of the freeway. “I don’t know.”
    He doesn’t press me for the details, but he can tell by my tone that it was bad. And he knows about what happened in the kitchen, when my father stabbed me, and that story tells a lot. “Have you heard from them at all since they took off?”
    I shake my head and place my hand over my side on the last scar my father ever gave me. “No, but I wonder why… and where they went. It’s like they were running away from something.”
    He nods, with a pensive look on his face. “Yeah, I know… I think it might be that they were worried you’d speak up.”
    “What would it matter if I did?” I question. “Even if I did, there isn’t a whole lot I could do. Even if the police believed me, and I could press assault charges, he could get off by only paying a fine. And he probably would, knowing him.”
    Dylan shakes his head as he turns the car for an off-ramp. “Try attempted murder or even manslaughter. He stabbed you, Kayden—beat the shit out of you. He beat the shit out of all of us.” He touches his cheekbone and runs his finger over a small straight scar on his cheek. “Someone should have spoken up a long time ago and not let him get away with it.”
    Silence takes over as we both drift back to our childhood. It’s weird being around someone who understands what it’s like.
    “We were all scared,” I say quietly and he nods in agreement, his eyes focused on the road. “How do you get over it? How did you move on with your life?”
    He shakes his head and slows the SUV at a stop sign. “I haven’t yet, but it gets easier with more time away from him. That stupid fucking power he has over you will go away.”
    I suck in a deep breath and then let it blow out. I tap my fingers on the door, watching the houses move by in a blur and wonder what his place will look like. I know he’s married and doesn’t have any kids. His wife is a teacher too. It seems so normal and strange to me, considering how Tyler turned out. But I guess that’s life. Not everyone ends up the same way, even if their circumstances are the same, because not everyone thinks and reacts the same.
    Finally, he pulls the vehicle to the side of the road in front of a field and shoves the shifter into park. I’m surprised though by where we are, not by houses but by a prison that’s hidden behind a tall chain-link fence with coils of barbed wire.
    “Ummm…” I glance at Dylan,