Page 157 of Love Bleeds Red
The leaves are just beginning to turn at the edges, hints of gold and amber that show autumn is here. It feels fitting, going into this season of change. We’re all changing, adapting, learning how to be together again in this new reality. Living with the consequences of our actions.
I check my phone. She should be here any minute now. My heart hammers against my ribs. I haven’t been this nervous in I can’t say how long.
“You alright?”
Bailey’s voice draws me back to the present. She’s walking toward me, eyebrows raised. “You look like you’re about to jump out of your skin. What’s going on?”
Before I can answer, a figure emerges from behind a cluster of oak trees near the parking area. Recognition hits Bailey like a punch and she staggers back a step, her hand flying to her chest.
“Cat?”
The young woman approaches slowly, her dark hair falling to her shoulders, her body and face almost as gaunt as Bailey’s was when we found her. She’s wearing jeans and a simple blue sweater, and although she’s thin and weathered, she looks remarkably good for someone who’s gone through what she has.
“Hey, New Girl,” Cat says, her voice soft but strong.
Bailey doesn’t speak. Can’t speak, it seems. Tears stream down her cheeks as she covers her mouth with both hands. For a moment, I think she might collapse, but then she’s running. Cat runs too, and they collide in the middle of the meadow, holding each other like they’re afraid the other will disappear.
I stay on my bench, giving them space, but my pencil never stops moving. This moment needs to be captured. The way they cling to each other, the raw emotion on both their faces, the pure joy of being reunited. My chest tightens as I watch them.
After a long embrace, they pull apart enough to look at each other, hands still gripping each other’s arms.
“How?” Bailey says. “How did you get out? Where have you been?”
Cat wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. “It’s a long story. And your man,” she glances over at me, “he found me about a month ago. Been trying to convince me to see you.”
Bailey turns to look at me, her eyes wide with questions and gratitude. “You found her?”
“I had some help,” I say, trying to downplay the weeks of searching, the dead ends, the sleepless nights spent following every possible lead. “Falin and a private investigator.”
They walk toward me hand in hand. Bailey has this look on her face like she can’t believe Cat is real, that if she lets go of her hand she could vanish into thin air.
I scoot down for them to sit beside me, but they choose to sit in the grass in front of the bench, Bailey with her feet tucked under her and Cat with her legs crossed.
“Things got really weird after you left,” Cat starts as she picks the grass between them. “They moved us around constantly… Sometimes different places every day. Houses, motels, offices... a few nights we even slept in the vans. King’s guys were paranoid, always talking about raids, about people disappearing. It was just me and Lydia by then. One morning we woke up in some sketchy motel and realized we were completely alone. No guards, no handlers. Nothing.”
Cat looks up at Bailey. “So I ran. Found my way to my abuela’s house, got my little brother, and we moved to the Oregon coast. Been there ever since.”
“Oregon?” Bailey’s voice is full of wonder. “I can’t believe... God, Cat, I thought about you every day. Worried about you, about everyone...” She grabs Cat’s hand again. “What about Jasmine?”
“Still missing,” Cat answers, barely able to meet Bailey’s eyes. “I’m saving up for a private investigator… It’s just hard with money.”
I make a mental note to set aside a large sum for her. From what I’ve learned of Cat, she won’t want to accept it, but I’ll find a way.
They talk for the next two hours. Cat tells Bailey about finding her grandmother, about the relief of being back with family, about slowly learning to feel safe again on the quiet Oregon coast. She talks about helping raise her little brother, about getting her GED, about the job she has at a local restaurant.
I finish one drawing and start on another—capturing their expressions as they laugh, as they shed tears, as they hold space for the people they lost. It’s sad and beautiful all at the same time.
Bailey tells Cat about the testimony and Cat looks at her with awe. She explains why she decided to skip speaking with law enforcement. I can’t say I blame her… not with all the corruption we uncovered.
Finally as the sun dips lower, coloring the puffy clouds in hues of pink and orange, Cat stands and brushes grass off her jeans.
“I should probably get back to my hotel. I have an early flight tomorrow.”
“Wait,” Bailey scrambles to her feet. “You can’t leave already. We just?—”
“I know,” she says. “I’d stay longer if I could, but I gotta get back to the kid.” There’s a smile on her face that tells me she’s more than happy to have that excuse.
They hug, and we walk Cat to her rental car. “Promise me you’ll call,” Bailey says.
