When Kate finally lets Betty go, it's reluctantly. She keeps hold of her friend's hand, doesn't step outside the safe circle of her scent. They're briefly debriefed by some man who quickly dismisses himself, undoubtedly off to process the new prisoner, to write a transcript of the confession, or maybe just to get some sleep. Betty squeezes Kate's hand, then slackens her grip, but Kate only tightens hers. Betty tightens her grip too, pleased that Kate hasn't completely withdrawn yet. That was the signal that Kate could let go of her hand, but Kate still hasn't, so she must still want this contact with Betty. Usually Betty pulls away first, but lately Kate's been pulling her back. Betty's pleased and uneasy, and the look of relief on Kate's face when she saw Betty in the hall will keep her confused for at least a week. The silence breaks when girls start streaming out of their rooms, asking questions Kate can't quite seem to answer. She lets Betty do the talking, and Ellen gives a low whistle.
It's not the full story, of course. Betty and Kate signed some papers, but the girls know enough that they can decipher for themselves the correlation between the man taken away and the explosion in the cafeteria.
The crowd disperses almost as fast as it had spawned, and Betty and Kate are relatively alone in the hall again, still holding hands.
"I should go," Betty says uncertainly. Her palm feels sweaty against Kate's right now, and she doesn't want to look where Kate's lipstick is still smeared. She wants to fix it, but she can't touch Kate's face. She wants to leave, but more than that she wants an invitation to stay.
"I don't want to go back in there," Kate whispers. "Can I go home with you?'' Betty's breath catches, Kate's hand tightens a little more on hers.
"Do you know what you're asking?" Betty asks, and Kate shakes her head slowly.
"I don't. But I can't stay here. Not without you," she adds hopefully, but this time Betty shakes her head.
"I'm not staying here." Betty pauses, bites her lip, glances at Kate's face (which is obviously a mistake because Kate's eyes are wide and moisture threatens to spill from them and Betty can tell Kate's only holding it together because they're still in the hall and she's ready to fall apart once shes behind a closed door but she doesn't want to go back into her room because of what just happened but she's so ready to fall apart that even the two feet to Kate's door might be a struggle for her so there's nothing Betty can do but nod a little reluctantly. She hasn't been avoiding Kate since they reconnected, but she hasn't sought out her company like she used to – not since the hospital, at least.) Kate's uncertain grin falters into a genuine smile and a tear or two run down her cheek, get caught on misplaced lipstick. Betty's free hand raises of its own accord and the pad of her thumb wipes its way down Kate's cheek, pulling away pink. Kate falls back into Betty's shoulder, her free hand a vise on Betty's shoulderblade. Kate's so obviously unsettled that Betty makes soothing sounds, turns her face away and holds Kate tighter. Betty's collar is moist when Kate finally pulls away, but neither of them mention it. Betty just pulls Kate along by their joined hands, down the stairs and out the front door.
Betty's place isn't as nice as the boarding house, but Kate likes it. It's a little chilly and run down, the wallpaper is mauve and the carpet chartreuse but it's better than staying in that room with the memories of what just happened. Kate takes a dressing gown from Betty and has a cold shower, scrubs at her face until her lips feel raw, scrubs at any place she can still feel those hands on her body. Betty's in her pyjamas when Kate gets back to the room, lying on her back on the bed, one ankle resting on one knee, cigarette dangling from her fingers as she stares intently at the ceiling - not even turning her head at Kate's entrance. Kate takes the cigarette and checks her face in the mirror.
There, in the lower left corner of the mirror, is the photo of herself. The one that sat in a box under her bed for months, the photo she used to pull out now and then, wondering what Betty saw in it; in her. She looks from the picture to her reflection; she's looking at a girl who never murdered anyone but she can't tell the difference from here.
Kate sits next to Betty, and for the first time that night Kate finally feels safe.