Page 36 of The Space Between
“Yes.” I reply.
Her mouth tightens. She nods. “I received a call from the sheriff’s office late yesterday afternoon. They asked me to confirm that a woman named Blakelyn Walker had recently been hired. They mentioned a man came onto private property and caused a scene. Said it was a domestic matter.”
“It was my ex,” I say quietly. “Someone I left for very serious reasons.”
She tilts her head. “We do run thorough background checks before employment. Nothing flagged your name, Miss Walker.”
“No, ma’am. I’m not a criminal.” I laugh but it sounds high pitched. “I’ve never been arrested for anything. I’ve never evengotten a speeding picket. And this thing with my ex, I—I never reported anything.” My voice wobbles. “I should have.”
She exhales and leans back, folding her hands on her stomach, regarding me. She asks softly, “I see. Is there any reason to believe this man will attempt to contact the school? Or show up here?”
“No.” I shake my head. “Absolutely not. I don’t think he’s crazy enough to come here, to the school. He found me… but I think it was through my name on the district roster. Yesterday was about him trying to force my hand to go back to Austin with him.”
She purses her lips. “But he found you in Juniper Falls.”
I nod and silence stretches between us.
When she finally speaks, her voice is softer. “I’m not asking this to interrogate you, Miss Walkker. I don’t want to pry, especially on such a sensitive subject. I’m only asking because I have an obligation—to the school, the students, to the faculty, and to you.”
“I understand.” I swallow.
I’m going to be released.
“I believe you.” Her eyes meet mine and I see understanding within them. “If you need anything—protection, support, counseling—you’ll have it.”
It knocks something loose in my chest. A breath. A beat of warmth. Something I didn’t expect from a woman in heels and a starched neutral blazer.
Before I can thank her, she adds, “There’s something you should know.”
I sit straighter. “What?”
She pulls open a drawer and slides out a printed email. “I didn’t send this,” she says. “But this was in the system from last week. I was cc’d after the fact.”
I read it quickly. It’s a district-wide welcome email—standard HR greeting, benefits login info, employee portal instructions. It was sent to all new hiresand cc’d to the main office admin at Juniper Falls Middle School, but at the bottom—tacked on as a casual reply—is a single line.
I have family in Austin. I think Ms. Walker used to go by another last name, maybe she got married. She looks very familiar.
One accidental line mass sent on an email.
Someone could have seen it and told Tyler. He could have picked up the trail and started looking. That’s all it took.
The blood drains from my face.
“I don’t know who wrote it,” Mrs. Leland says. “But I’ve put in a request to track it.”
I nod numbly.
This isn’t paranoia. It’s a paper trail and Tyler was already sniffing around the edges.
By the timeI get back to the cabin, my legs feel like they’re made of smoke. The wind has picked up, hot and sharp, carrying dust off the gravel and through the cedar trees that line the bank. I’m sweating, but I feel cold. Shaky.
He found me because someone recognized my face and thought I used to have a different name… his.
Pushing open the screen door, I step inside.
He’s there, sitting at my kitchen table.
Gruene.
