10
EMORY
Gray stood beside me the entire time I gave my story to the police, his hand warm and heavy on my shoulder. His grip tightened every time I said something especially bad, like when I told about the guy yelling for me from my bedroom window as I ran off or about climbing down the emergency ladder. With the police officer’s permission, he’d had Reed escorted into the house and grab a sweatshirt and flip-flops for me to wear so I wasn’t just braless and in a snug tank top and sleep shorts. When he'd grilled me enough, we’d gone into the house together to see if anything was missing, but other than things knocked off the counter and a chair moved, most likely the crashing sounds I'd heard, nothing had been taken. The back door had been jimmied and the glass from the broken lightbulb
