Page 62 of In Her Path

When Jenna pulled her cruiser up to the curb in front of the sheriff’s department. Jake was waiting for her on the steps, a travel mug in each hand. He raised one of the mugs in greeting as she rolled down the window, the morning air cool against her face.

“I come bearing gifts,” he said, sliding into the passenger seat. He handed her one of the mugs. “Black, no sugar. Just the way you like it.”

Jenna accepted the coffee gratefully. “You’re a lifesaver,” she said, taking a sip. Then she pulled the car away from the curb, heading toward Trentville Memorial. They drove in comfortable silence for a few blocks.

“I had a dream last night,” Jenna said finally. The words came out before she’d fully decided to share them. “A lucid one. With a visitor.”

“Who was it?” he asked.

“Esther Doyle. Frank’s grandmother.”

Jake’s eyebrows rose. “The one who—“

“Had the sight,” Jenna finished for him. “She said the darkness that’s been hanging over Trentville is withdrawing now.”

“The darkness,” he replied. “Yeah, we’ve talked about that. I’ve never quite been able to believe in it. But I’ve had to admit that something must be off for there to be so many serial killers in an a otherwise normal county. I’ll buy any reason for the withdrawing part.”

“She said we’ve defeated it. You, me, Piper, Frank—all of us, acting out of kindness and sympathy and love.” She smiled faintly. “Her words, not mine.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“But she also said I’m still afraid,” Jenna added. “That I mustn’t let fear stand in my way.”

“Afraid of what?”

“I tried to ask her, but she vanished before I could get an answer.”

They pulled into the hospital parking lot, Jenna guiding the vehicle into a space near the main entrance. She killed the engine but made no move to get out.

“Am I afraid?” she asked. “Of the job? Of failing? Of what’s happening with Piper?” She frowned. “I don’t feel afraid. Not any more than usual, anyway.”

“You’re the least afraid person I know,” Jake replied.

“Sometimes I don’t feel like it.”

They got out of the car together, falling into step as they crossed the parking lot and through the hospital entrance. The nurse at the hospital front desk directed them to Room 212.

They found Claire Simmons lying propped against a stack of pillows, an IV line running from her arm to a clear bag of fluid on a stand beside the bed. She’d been cleaned up since yesterday—her hair washed and combed, her face free of dirt and tear tracks—but nothing could disguise the hollows under her eyes or the purple bruise forming at her throat where the rope had cut into her skin.

She looked up as they entered. “Sheriff,” she said, her voice hoarse but steady. “Deputy Hawkins. Thank you for coming. It’s good to see you”

“Of course,” Jenna replied as she moved to the foot of the bed. Claire looked fragile, breakable—a far cry from the composed, camera-ready politician Jenna was used to seeing. “How are you feeling?”

Claire managed a weak smile. “Like I’ve been kidnapped, hanged, and terrorized.” She reached for the plastic cup on her bedside table, taking a small sip of water. “The doctor says I’ll be fine. Dehydration, shock, some bruising. Nothing permanent.” Her hand drifted to her throat, brushing the angry mark there. “Except this, maybe. And the nightmares.”

“I’m sorry,” Jenna said. The words felt inadequate, but she meant them.

Claire shook her head. “Don’t be. If you hadn’t found me...” She didn’t finish the thought, didn’t need to. They all knew what would have happened if they’d arrived even ten minutes later. “I wanted to thank you. Both of you. And Frank, and your sister.” She hesitated, then added, “There’s something else I need to say. Something I should have said a long time ago.”

Jenna exchanged a glance with Jake, who moved to the window, giving them the illusion of privacy in the small room.

“These past few months,” Claire continued, her voice growing stronger as she spoke, “I’ve hinted that you might be connected to the... incidents in Trentville, the recent troubles, the deaths. That your methods were unorthodox, that you seemed to know things you couldn’t possibly know. Almost like … you were the cause it all somehow.” She met Jenna’s gaze directly. “It was unfair of me. I was wrong.”

“I understand why you were suspicious,” Jenna said. “My methods aren’t exactly by the book.”

“That’s not an excuse.” Claire set her water cup down. “And after yesterday—after what happened with Meredith, after hearing her talk about Bruce—” She broke off, her composure slipping for just a moment. “I realized I was as much a part of the darkness as anyone else. And all along, you’ve been the one fighting hardest against it.”

The words struck Jenna with unexpected force. She thought of Esther’s message—the darkness is lifting—and felt a sudden, fierce conviction that the older woman had been right.