Page 88 of The Chaperones

Emmy, the park ranger

“Cassie?” I call as I step inside the cabin. She’s facing away from the door, staring into the trash can beside the dresser. When she turns to me, her expression is so wounded, it makes my eyes sting. I’ve had hours to decide what to say to her. Still, I’m coming up empty.

The first shot immobilized us all. I wasn’t sure who’d shot my firearm, Cassie or Travis. I couldn’t tell whose blood was pooling around the pile of their bodies. Then Cassie pushed her brother off her and rolled him to the ground, where he faced the sky, lips parted as he gasped for air. Cassie stood up, looming over her brother, held out my service pistol, and shot him in the chest.

When the second shot rang out, causing Mona to scream, I sprang into action.

“No!” I shouted as she continued to aim my pistol at her brother, prepared to shoot him again. “Cassie, don’t.”

I reached her hand before the gun went off for a third time. When I took it from her, I took all her energy with it. She collapsed to the ground and wailed. I stared down at Travis as he gasped and gargled his own blood. I always knew he would come for me, and when he finally did, I’d missed it. The result was worse than anything I could have imagined. And now—now he was bleeding out before me. Now he was about to die, if I didn’t help him.

I rushed over to Travis. His shallow breath hastened as I bent down and unzipped his jacket. His gaze drifted to me. I couldn’t tell if he was scared that I would save him or that I would let him die. I got his jacket open. He groaned as I lifted up his blood-soaked shirt. One bullet had hit him below the rib cage. The other had burrowed into his chest. I pressed my hands over both holes, trying to create enough pressure to stop the blood flow, but there was too much blood. As the heels of my hands pushed into Travis, I turned to Cassie—Sandy—who was staring at him, tortured by what she’d done, what she would have continued to do if I hadn’t stopped her. They kept staring at each other as I felt the life drain from his body. That quickly, Travis was gone.

I don’t know how to feel now that Travis is gone. So often, I’ve tried to envision what it would be like to not have to constantly worry about him. It’s always been unfathomable, because the only way I would really be free from Travis Stevens was if he were dead. In the end, Travis bled like anyone else.

“Cassie,” I call as I brave another step into the cabin. “I’ve got some food, if you’re hungry?”

The bowl of Raymond Zhao’s famous congee smells rich and meaty, causing my stomach to churn. I can’t imagine that Cassie is hungry either. But she will have to eat. She will have to move on from this and accept what she’s done.

Cassie looks up at me. “Emmy,” she says, then stops, like there’s too much she needs to say. Too much to form into words. We aren’t supposed to talk about what happened. I will give my official statement when I arrive on the mainland. If I see her again, it will be in court. Travis may be dead, but this isn’t over for either of us.

“You should eat.” I put the bowl on the table beside the bed, keeping my distance from her. “Do you need to use the bathroom? Any water?”

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know, not until after. Travis, he . . . I’m so, so sorry.”

I can see on her face that she needs to get it out. I don’t want to hear it, though. What’s more, it’s against protocol.

“You did what you had to do,” I say flatly, trying to keep my voice from cracking, my body from falling apart.

Cassie frowns at me, not ready to believe me.

As I head out, I say to her, “You know, it’s too bad I wasn’t wearing my body cam. That way everyone would be able to see how you were only acting in self-defense. I guess they’ll have to take my word for it instead.”

I don’t wait for her to respond, because this isn’t about protecting Cassie. I don’t know what will happen to her even when I report that both shots were in self-defense. I just know that Travis doesn’t get to be a victim.