Page 70 of Shark Cove

“Regina is an only child with no relatives, but Leonard William has a sister who lives in California. Camille’s Aunt June is flying out now. Camille’s quite an heiress and will need someone to take care of her and look out for her interests. Your dad told me you suggested she come home with us—she can, of course, but only for a few days, and only when Dr. Gelanno decides that she is safe to be released from the hospital. I can’t have a suicidal teen who’s lost both parents in our house.”

“I get that, but I think it would be good for all of us to have her.”

“It’s not an option right now, and I have to take you down to the station for a citation—at least make it look like I’m slapping you with a consequence for pulling the fire alarm.”

“I just wanted to stop what was going on!”

“I know, honey.” Harry sighed. “We did stop the transfer to a long-term institution Regina was working on. We think she was doing it to get control of Leonard’s assets that come to Camille. But right now, Camille has to go to the psych unit. With all that’s happened to her and her self-injury, Dr. Gelanno won’t allow her to be released until he’s sure she’s safe and going into a supportive situation. Until her aunt gets here and signs guardianship papers, Camille’s a ward of the state.”

“Poor Camille. This is so horrible. I can’t even imagine what she must be feeling. Where’s Dad?”

“After Camille was transferred to the psych unit, which went through after you pulled the fire alarm, he went back down to the lobby and got Kylie and took her home. He’s acting as temporary ‘guardian ad litem’ for Camille. Don’t worry, you’ll get to visit her right away in the unit.”

“Oh, good.”

“Kind of puts things in perspective, doesn’t it?” Harry tipped Malia’s chin up to look into her eyes, and Malia saw love and grief in her mom’s honey-brown gaze. “Whatever is happening in our family is nothing compared to what’s happened to Camille.”

“I know. Are you getting back together with Dad?”

Harry turned away. “Now’s not the time. Let’s go.”

They were escorted all the way to Harry’s SUV by the security guards; Harry took a call once they were in the car. “We’re having that press conference at the station. You better do something about your hair,” Harry said, when she ended the call.

“Oh no!” Malia’s braid had come undone in the struggle with the orderlies. Malia frantically redid her hair with her mom’s comb and put on a little lipstick. Thankfully, she’d put mascara on earlier and worn that nice purple shirt.

Soon Malia was standing in front of hot TV lights, microphones bristling at her. Her mom took up one side, and Captain Omura stood on the other. Lei and her partner Pono stood just behind her.

Malia was asked by reporters how it felt to speed into the middle of a kidnapping exchange to rescue her friend.

“I didn’t think about it, because it was the only thing to do,” Malia said. “I had to save her.”

Captain Omura stepped in and made a statement about the case wrapping up with “significant arrests.”

Way in the back of the conference room, Malia spotted her dad and Kylie. Peter Clark had an arm around her little sister, and when they caught her eye, both gave Malia a thumbs-up. That gave Malia a boost of energy that straightened her spine, and she was able to tell the harrowing story of Camille’s rescue for the news.

The next day,late in the afternoon after school, Malia met Camille in the “rec room” at the Molokini Youth Ward of Maui Memorial Hospital.

Harry had dropped her off. Malia was nervous through the process of signing in, showing ID, being checked for contraband, and finally, buzzing into the locked psychiatric ward.

Once inside, efforts had been made to make the unit homey; there were rugs on the floor, artwork, and comfortable couches around a TV bolted to the wall in a living room area. Camille jumped up from a table where she was working a jigsaw puzzle with another girl.

“You made it!” her friend exclaimed. They hugged.

Malia held Camille’s shoulders and looked at her. A fog of medication still clouded her friend’s pretty eyes, but Camille’s hair had been washed and brushed and she was clean. She wore an outfit from her “coordinated” closet—an aqua shirt with capri pants. She looked a hundred times better than the day before.

“I’m so glad to see you’re okay,” Malia said. “I was so worried.”

“I think they’ll let me out tomorrow. With my aunt.”

“I hope you’ll come stay with us for a few days.”

“We have to see what Aunt June says. She’s staying in a hotel. She wants me to join her there, and that’s fine because I never want to go to my old house again.”

Malia touched the sleeve of a shirt she’d never seen Camille wear. She tugged her friend’s hand and led her over to the couch. Camille drew a deep breath and sighed, leaning her head on Malia’s shoulder after they sat down. “My aunt wants me to come to California with her. Thinks it will be better for me to start fresh, not have all the memories to deal with.”

“No!” Malia pulled back. “She can’t do that to you! My dad can block it.”

“Your dad has been great. He was here this morning, interviewing me about what I want. It’s hard to think about it, but my life has changed forever. And . . . maybe for the better.” Camille’s soft mouth firmed into a line. “Mom, for instance. I never want to see her, ever again. And the thought of going back to that house—I can’t even handle it. Aunt June was right about that.”

---