Epilogue

Jennifer snuggled down into her covers. She hadn't even begun to imagine how good it would be to see the people she loved again, or to be safe and secure in her own room, her own bed. Her entire family had welcomed her with open arms, the petty grievances of the past all but forgotten. Where she had expected there to be only anger and reprimands she had been met with words of love, joy and understanding.

David had told her it was likely there would be anger, perhaps not initially but in the days following her return, but at its root was love. That in time the anger would pass, but the love would remain.

She knew this was only a temporary fix, but now felt better equipped to deal with problems that would arise in the future. Never again would she allow insignificant, petty things to come between her and those people who were the most important to her, and together they would deal with the troublesome issues as they arose. She would face them head on, instead of turning tail and running.

She had found her voice, and her center, but she couldn't stop her thoughts from traveling to the man who had become such an integral part of her life over the past four days. She was back home where she belonged, but now he was out there all alone, dealing with a terrible secret, on the run from a man who did his best to make what was already a difficult existence that much harder. With tears in her eyes she remembered their last few hours together:

They had made it to a neighboring town and were just waiting for Jennifer's father to come and get her. They had both come to the conclusion that it might be entirely possible that McGee was waiting for David in Langeford, and that he had notified the police who would pick up her traveling companion the minute the two set foot in town.

At the diner she had urged David to leave, insisting that she could do the last leg of the journey by herself and that she didn't want David to be captured on her account. As expected, he had refused on the premise that he had promised to see her safely home. If he left now, he would never know if she made it, and if something were to happen to her in the interim, he'd never forgive himself.

Putting their heads together they had concocted a plan to go to a nearby town and have Jennifer call her father to come and get her. That way, David could see her safely returned to her parents without putting himself at risk. Jennifer had explained everything to her father on the phone, conveniently omitting the part about the creature, and insisted he come alone, that he didn't involve the authorities, and that he made sure no one was following him.

As they were waiting for Mr. Wilson to arrive, they had talked one last time:

"You know, you'll make a fine author someday," he told her.

"I certainly hope so. It's been a dream of mine for as long as I can remember." She glanced at him, eyes lit by a fiery passion, as well as gratitude. "It helps to have people who believe in you, though."

He favored her with a look of fatherly pride. It rippled through her in ways she didn't quite understand. "As does believing in yourself. That also goes a long way to making dreams come true."

"Touché," she admitted. She swallowed nervously, not sure how he would react to her next revelation. "I've already got an idea for a story, in the vein of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde."

"Oh, so you're familiar with the work, then?" he asked casually, but she could see an undercurrent of sorrow, of resignation pass over his features, as if he expected his life to forever be defined in that manner.

"No, I haven't read it yet—I only know what I've seen in the movies—but I intend to." She looked at him solemnly. "But regardless of what happened in the original, my creature will be a gentle, misunderstood soul. And it will have a happy ending," she promised. She reached out and grasped his hand, a smile of determination fluttering about her lips.

He dipped his head and closed his eyes briefly. "I'm sure it will be a best seller someday. Save me an autographed copy, all right?" he said with a wistful smile of his own.

She laughed at that. "Only if you promise to write and let me know where you are. And how things are," she added adamantly.

"I'll at least promise to write," he assured her, but there was an aura of sadness about him, almost as if he didn't believe in happy endings.

She opened her mouth to respond, intent only on finding a way to lift the melancholy that had settled about him like an ill-fitting cloak, but her expression changed to one of pure joy as something caught her eye. "There he is!" Jennifer exclaimed, jumping to her feet and racing for her family's ancient station wagon. As they had agreed earlier, David hung back in case McGee or the police had tagged along, too.

She flung herself into her dad's arms. He hugged her close, lifting her bodily off the ground and twirling her round and round, showering the top of her head and forehead with kisses.

When he finally set her down she'd taken his hand in hers, and the two had engaged in a serious, meaningful conversation. After a few minutes she began leading him to David. "Daddy, there's someone I want you to meet," she said as they approached.

Mr. Wilson thrust out his hand. "I can't thank you enough for what you've done Mr. Bailey. We've been worried sick for the last three weeks."

David grasped the proffered hand warmly. "You're very welcome. Your daughter is an amazing, smart and talented young lady. Once we met and I heard her story, nothing was going to stop me from helping her get back to you."

"At considerable risk to yourself, she told me." David's eyes traveled to Jennifer, shocked that she had apparently broken his trust, explained his "condition" to her father. She shook her head slightly, just as her dad continued. "She didn't go into detail, and I didn't press her to. I don't care what the authorities think you've done. Jennifer trusts you, and that's good enough for me."

David's features relaxed, the lines on his forehead and around his eyes smoothing out as he exhaled, the sound one of pure relief. "I'm just glad things worked in our favor, and that she's back where she belongs. Unfortunately, this is goodbye. It's time for me to move on." He hugged Jennifer briefly. "You be good to yourself, and don't forget to believe in yourself," he instructed softly before releasing her and turning to go.

"Please, there must be something I can do. You've given me everything and I've done nothing in return," her father argued, a hand on David's forearm. "There is the matter of the $1,000 reward."

"That's not why I did it," David confessed honestly. "I remember what it was like to be at odds with my family when I was her age. I wish someone had intervened on my behalf."

"Be that as it may, she told me you spent your last dime getting her something to eat. It's gonna be really hard for you to move on without some funds." He reached for his wallet.

"No, please, I couldn't," David stammered, remembering the dire financial straits the Wilson family was in, his gesture indicating he would not accept.

"Please, take it," Mr. Wilson insisted, holding out two twenty dollar bills. "I was telling my daughter I got a raise while she was gone, a supervisory position with my employer that pays much better than my old one did. I'd planned to bring you home with us, have the wife fix you a nice meal and give you a place to stay for as long as you needed, but Jennifer told me that wasn't possible. It's not much," he said, thrusting the bills at David once again, "but at least it should buy you a warm place to sleep tonight, and a good meal."

"Please," Jennifer added. "It's the least we can do, considering all you've done for me." She threw herself into his arms again, her cheeks moist. "I'll miss you, you know?" she said, her voice breaking as her father stuffed the money into the pocket of David's coat.

"Same here," he replied, his voice none-too-steady either.

"And don't forget the advice you gave me," she whispered against his chest. "It doesn't just apply to me." When finally he held her at arm's length, she saw satisfaction and joy in his eyes, but the melancholy swooped back in to nip at their heels, chasing them away. He kissed the top of her head, released her, and with a final shake to Mr. Wilson's hand and a soft "thank you," he turned and walked off. The father and daughter watched him go, arm in arm, until he disappeared from view.

As of yet, she hadn't told her family everything. Maybe that would change over the next few weeks, maybe it wouldn't. The important thing was that she was home, where she belonged. Brushing a tear from her cheek, not sure if it was one of sadness or joy, she rolled over, hugged her pillow and closed her eyes. Tomorrow would mark the beginning of the rest of her life.