Chapter Twenty-Seven
Up in Flames

Do you remember way back when we were stuck at that stupid hotel and I told you about how my mom was from Puerto Rico and my dad was a soldier? Well, you probably remember me being angry at Chris more than anything – and speaking of him, he's still not forgiven.

But this Saturday morning, not even Chris Rodriguez could ruin my mood. And you want to know why? Well, when I came downstairs for breakfast, my mom was smiling, the home phone sitting in her lap. "El tres de marzo," she said, beaming.

Yes, my mom did speak English, but when she was mad, or excited, or maybe just when she forgot we were in America, she regressed back to her native language. Normally, I would have snapped at her about speaking in English, but…

"Really? Dad's coming home in less than two months?" I asked. My mom eagerly shook her head before standing up and wrapping me in a big hug. Again, normally I would have snapped at her about how she was acting like I was a little kid, and I didn't like it when she touched me, but my dad was coming home. I hadn't seen him in over a year.

I felt Mom shaking, and I knew she was crying. Ever since she'd married Dad, it'd been one tour after the other, always with the promise of this'll be the last one. And each time, she believed him. In his defense, I think he honestly meant it each time. But then there would be some new place, some new fight, and he would be gone again.

The worst time had been when I was eight years old. On September 11, 2001, I knew something was wrong when I got home from school and my mom was watching TV, crying. "Papá va a salir," she'd whispered. Daddy's going to leave.

And for the last ten years, I'd seen my dad for a collective total of four months. I knew I shouldn't get my hopes up, but I couldn't help but hope that this was going to be it. The time when he finally stayed home.

But of course, we didn't say anything. It was bad luck to mention it, we'd decided.

"He'll miss all of my basketball games," I said. Okay, I was the only sophomore on the varsity team. Excuse me for wanting my dad to see.

"But he'll be here for all of your softball season this year," Mom added. "I think we need to celebrate. Huevos rancheros?" And just like that, she changed the topic. She was good at that, being really positive about all things involving Dad. But I knew she cried herself to sleep for the first few weeks every time he left, and she got up at the crack of dawn to watch the news every day.

"Sure, Mom."

She retreated into the kitchen, happily singing some Spanish song way off key. I raced back upstairs, grabbing my phone to tell someone, but then I remembered the battery had died last night on the way to our basketball game. I grabbed my charger and plugged it in, waiting for my phone to power up.

When it finally did, I had a few messages from the older basketball players telling me I'd played really good last night, one from Chris, gloating about how the guys had killed the team they played, and no less than 18 messages from Silena.

I sent Chris a quick message about keeping his eye on their star center. If you believed everything you heard, it sounded like the Gardner twins had a thing for the Stoll brothers. Then I braced myself for whatever was going on with Silena.

I need to talk to you. Where are you? Please talk to me. I'm sorry I was a bitch about the Chris thing. I really need to talk to you. Those messages went on for a little while longer. Luke thinks I'm a bitch. I don't know what to do. Will you please talk to me? He hates me. Come on, I need you right now.

My great mood was gone. Do you want me to come over? My phone died last night.

Even though her last message had come sometime last night, she responded in just a few minutes. Yes. Bring ice cream. And a sad movie.

I changed out of my pajamas into sweats and an old shirt from some softball camp. While I was tying my hair up, my phone vibrated again. I groaned, expecting another message from Silena. Instead, it was a message from Chris.

Travis can do what he wants. You seem mad.

No shit. I probably should have left it at that. I didn't. I have to go talk to Silena because your old best friend thinks she's a bitch or something.

She is a bitch. Wait, you mean Luke?

I wanted to ask him if he was blind and had missed their constant love fest for the past month. Yeah. I have to go.

I was ready to go back downstairs and have breakfast with my mom, then drive to Silena's house and play the sympathetic friend for a while. Then my phone vibrated again. I was about ready to shut the damn thing off and throw it out the window.

Do you want to ditch Silena and hang out today?

I thought about it for all of two seconds. Chris Rodriguez or a weepy miserable Silena Beauregard. I texted Silena. Sorry. Something just came up. Family emergency. I'll talk to you later. Then I texted Chris, telling him to pick me up in 15 minutes.

Mom had the eggs on the table by the time I came back down. I told her I was going to hang out with a friend today to celebrate, and she didn't ask any questions. Instead, she went on about how this year we could take a family vacation this summer, and how Dad would be so proud when he saw how great the softball team was, and I quit listening after that, only hoping that she wouldn't be disappointed if things didn't work out so perfectly.

When I saw Chris' crappy old car pull into our driveway, I ran upstairs to grab my phone. I figured I had enough of a battery to last a few hours. I was all prepared to run out the door to his car, but he surprised me by coming up to the door.

"You didn't tell me it was a boy, Clarisse," Mom said before I opened the door, but her tone told me she wasn't mad. "He's…muy guapo." She winked. Times like these made me wonder if my mom didn't wish she had a girlier daughter. I pushed the thought out of my mind.

Chris was wearing an old Shallow Lake Trojans sweatshirt. Yes, Trojans. Every year a group of conservative parents tried to get it changed, but the students liked all of the old traditions that came with it – like stuffing one lucky football player's locker full of condoms before every home game in the fall.

"Heard you guys won last night," Chris threw me a smile. "And you led the team for points. Nice job."

"Yeah, and a modest little angel told me his team killed last night. Nice job." I pushed past him and headed for his car. It was a sore spot between the really competitive athletes – the boys were undefeated, but the girls had lost one game. And that was because the refs had seriously hated us.

Chris slid into the driver's seat. Even though it was probably from the 80s, his car still had that fresh off the lot smell. And there weren't any discarded fast food bags on the ground or anything. It had impressed me the first time I'd been in his car, and I guess it still did.

"You care where we go?" he asked. I shook my head. "So you blame me for Silena being all hung up over Luke."

I snorted. "No. All I said is he was your best friend."

"He's a loser."

"I'm not arguing."

"I don't get why girls like him so much."

"Me either."

"He's a complete asswipe. And he doesn't care about anything. He's the kind of person who would jump off a cliff just to-"

"I don't get how you guys were ever friends if you hate him so much," I interrupted.

Chris was quiet for a long time. "We were lab partners in biology. I fell asleep one time. Well, a couple times. One time he woke me up and told me if I was having a hard time staying awake, he'd sell me some of his Adderall. He must have had it for like, ADHD or something."

"Doesn't seem to be helping him."

"He told me he didn't like taking it, so he normally just drains it down the sink so his mom won't freak out. I asked him if it would show up in a drug test. He asked me why I cared." Chris tapped his fingers on the wheel as we came to a stop sign. "I guess I was stupid. I wanted to be around someone who could be so careless, when I always have to…anyway, I finally realized that he's going nowhere."

"There's more than that."

"Yeah. There is."

Chris turned into a familiar driveway. "Wait, why are we going to see Silena?" I asked.

"Because you made me feel bad for her."

"But you said she's a bitch."

"Not relevant."

He parked the car and walked around to open my door for me like the gentleman he wasn't. "Let's just be nice. Be supportive. Maybe subtly coax her into breaking up with Luke."

I guessed I could work with him for that cause.

But that didn't mean I still liked him.

I never thought that when Grover Underwood asked me for a ride, it would lead to us sitting in my car two days later, watching as a building exploded. I mean, yeah, I'm cynical.

But even I'm not that cynical.

So like I said, this all started when Grover came up to me before first hour. "Hey, Thalia," he said timidly, already giving me the pleading look with his big brown eyes. "Will you give me and Annabeth a ride somewhere after school?"

"Somewhere?" When it came to driving, I avoided places I'd never been before and trips longer than an hour. And I swear it had nothing to do with the fact that my mom had died in a car accident. Or at least that's what I told myself.

"Well, umm..you see…" This is where Grover went from kind of anxious to really nervous. "We need you to follow someone."

"Who?" I pushed him when it was obvious he wasn't going to say anything more.

"Mrs. M," he mumbled, then added something that I couldn't hear.

"You're mumbling."

"We think she…."

"Louder."

"She's the one who kidnapped Percy," Grover whispered.

Right then, the two minute bell rang. "Explain during lunch. I'm not saying no, but I'll think about it, okay?"

Grover nodded and ran off to his first class of the day. And I slowly made my way to algebra – my least favorite class of the day solely because I had to sit next to…Luke. I just pretended he didn't exist, and he did the same for me.

Well, he had up until today. I took my seat next to him and consciously made an effort to suck my stomach in. I mean, it was definitely there. Small, but there. I needed to ask my grandpa if I could live in Florida with him for the next six months.

"Hey, Thalia," he said, giving me the tiniest hint of a smile. I ignored him and took my time opening my book so I had something to do. I didn't have to look to know that he was watching me.

"What do you want, Luke?" I finally asked, struggling to keep my voice neutral.

I was eternally thankful that the final bell rang right then and the teacher stepped up to her little podium and started lecturing immediately. I tried to listen, but honestly, stuff like math and science made no sense to me. My guidance counselor in California had pointed out that I was a lot better in my social studies classes and put me in a bunch of advanced ones, but unfortunately, Shallow Lake didn't have any of that.

Luke managed to pass me a note so subtly even I almost didn't see him do it. Truce? he'd written in his familiar blocky handwriting.

I grabbed my red pen. Hell no. Just for added emphasis, I outlined it a few times.

He passed the paper back to me a few minutes later. Why not? I messed up. You messed up. We're even.

We are NOT even.

How do you figure?

Maybe because I was 14 weeks pregnant and planning on never telling him, instead opting to hand our twins over to some couple who was actually happy together. Whatever. Truce. You win.

I hoped that would be the end of everything. Instead, the note was right back on my desk less than a minute later. Cool. You want a ride home from school today? I know you don't like driving.

I don't mind driving. And I'm busy. And because I knew what his next question would be, I added, Grover Underwood and Annabeth Chase need a ride somewhere. Now stop talking to me. Unlike you, I want to graduate sometime this century.

Grades were always posted on this bulletin in the back of the classroom. It didn't actually have your name – they actually used your "student code," which was just your graduation year followed by your birthday. It wasn't too hard to figure out who was who. And Luke's grade…well, acing the semester final wouldn't do him much good at this point.

The rest of algebra went smoothly – well, as smoothly as logarithms could go. If anything, this was going to be the class that ruined my straight B average. But then again, I'd rather be failing all of my classes than be expecting twins in six months. At least I could get myself out of the first situation.

I really had to quit thinking like that.

I took my time leaving when the bell rang, but Luke waited right outside of the door for me. I gritted my teeth. "Seriously, what do you want?"

"Nothing," he insisted. We started walking down the hallway, and his arm brushed mine. I waited for his girlfriend to jump out of a locker and attack us both. "I just feel bad about…everything."

"Yeah, well get over it. I did. You should try it."

He stopped and tugged on my wrist. "Really? Can you look me in the eye and tell me that you're over everything? That you don't ever think about it? That you don't wonder…what if?"

Between the look he was giving me and the desperate way he was pleading with me, this really small part of me wanted to tell him. Yeah, that would go over really well. "No, I don't. I'm over it. And I think it'd be best if you didn't talk to me until you were too."

And by then, I'd hopefully be on a completely different side of the country.

It was hard to forget our conversation. The next four hours, I kept replaying it in my head, wondering how bad it would have gone if I'd told him right then and there. Then I convinced myself that it was just some act he was putting on. He really didn't care. And if he did, then it was better that he didn't know.

Lunch came. Despite being super hungry, I had the feeling that anything I ate would come right back up. I completely forgot that I was going to talk to Grover until he and Annabeth sat down on either side of me.

"So Grover told you," Annabeth said. It was the first time she'd talked to me since I got back, and for some reason, she wouldn't look me in the eyes.

"He told me you think your English teacher abducted Percy."

"She's obsessed with Percy because he looks like Dean King, and they were like, engaged," Grover blurted out. "Their picture is on the back page of the yearbook in the library."

"Percy looks like Dean King, who was engaged to Mrs. M. Therefore, Mrs. M is the one who kidnapped Percy. Yeah, you guys have got this all figured out." I couldn't keep the sarcasm out of my voice. "I can see why you haven't gone to the police with this theory yet."

Annabeth ignored me. "So we want you to follow her home, just so we can figure out where she lives. They don't keep the addresses of substitute teachers on file. I checked."

"You broke into the office's records?"

She shrugged. "It wasn't hard. I said I had a headache. I waited for the secretary to walk away for a few minutes. Then I went and looked. And the weird thing is they don't have anything about her."

So maybe I had a newfound respect for her. Or maybe I just needed a distraction. "Okay. We can follow her. But that's all we're going to do. Understand?"

They both agreed. And that was how we found ourselves following this complete crap shack of a van through the busy traffic in Degis. "Don't follow her too close. No, don't get too far behind her. We might lose her if we don't-"

"Annabeth. Shut up." My knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel so hard. Mrs. M seemed to be taking the most indirect route possible, almost like she knew we were following her. I was thankful the sporty car Nell had given me the keys to tinted windows.

Grover was sitting in the backseat nervously. "I don't think this a good idea," he bleated.

Yeah, I'd thought that twenty minutes ago. Mrs. M put on her blinker and turned on a road that led to one of the poorer parts of the city. "Are we still following her?"

"Yes," Annabeth said, right as Grover protested. "Come on, we've come this far." Sighing, I put on my blinker and followed her. It was getting really hard to follow her, because first, there weren't many people in this part of town. It had a reputation. And second, when you were driving a sports car that wasn't even three years old, you kind of stuck out.

Finally, she stopped outside of this building that seriously looked like it was up for demolition. It looked like it had been built in the early 1900s, and no renovation work had been done since. Some of the windows were missing glass, and I swear the entire thing looked like it was leaning to the left.

"Okay, we know where she lives. Let's go," Grover said. I was happy to oblige.

"No, wait," Annabeth insisted.

"What am I supposed to do? Park here? That won't set off any red flags on her part." I settled for slowing down. Annabeth watched the building. I didn't know what she was looking for until lights flickered on one of the floors.

"She's got an apartment on the second floor," Annabeth said. I had to admit, that girl was smart.

As we were driving back home, I asked, "You guys really think she's the one who kidnapped him?"

"Yes," they both said immediately.

"Okay, here's what we're going to do."

That's how that Saturday, I ended up outside Luke Castellan's house, handing him the keys to my Grand Prix. "Thanks for doing this," I said as he handed me the keys to his old Fiero.

"Yeah, well, trading your fancy ass car for my hunk of crap. It's not like I'm doing you a huge favor."

He loved his car. Something about the headlights that popped out and the sunroof made it perfect in his eyes. "You are. Thanks. I'll bring it back later tonight."

Our eyes met for just a second. Then he started leaning into me, and I knew where things were headed, so I quickly turned and headed to his car. "But yeah, I really have to go."

"Sometimes the accelerator sticks," he warned. "And if it doesn't start right away, all you have to do is pound on the hood a little bit and it should. And if that doesn't work, you can call me. You know that, right?"

"Yeah." Luke hadn't even asked me why I needed to exchange cars. I'd just texted him, asked, and he'd agreed. "Thanks again."

He shook his head and headed back into his house. I wondered how he'd explain the new car to his mom, then quickly stopped. It wasn't my problem. He wasn't my problem.

Annabeth's eyes nearly popped out of her head when I picked her up. "This is Luke's car," she sputtered.

"Yeah? It is. Got a problem with that? I asked him to switch with me, just in case Mrs. M remembers us."

She shook her head. "Yeah, good idea." And just like that, her composure was back.

And that's when it hit me. "Annabeth, you don't…like Luke, do you?"

Her face turned bright red, which pretty much answered my question. "No. I mean, why would I?"

"I don't know. Just asking."

We picked up Grover a few minutes later. He looked nervous. "Hey, isn't this-"

"Luke's car? Yes. We switched so Mrs. M wouldn't remember us."

Something Luke forgot to mention about his car: the heating was bipolar. I had it cranked all the way up, and all of the sudden freezing cold air started blowing out. We weren't even halfway to Degis, and we were all freezing.

"Thalia, can you t-t-turn the heating on?" Grover asked, his teeth chattering.

"It is on."

Annabeth fiddled with the dial, but the car seemed hell-bent on freezing us. "It's what he gets for driving a car that's ten years older than he is." I rolled my eyes.

"I don't get why out of all the people in the world, you ask him to trade cars," Grover said. I tried to shoot him a look in the rearview mirror that was both pissed off and pleading. I was not talking about this now.

"Yeah, why-" Annabeth started.

"Let's just not talk."

But once we got to Degis, Annabeth had to give me directions back to the apartment building. So I hated driving, and I had no sense of direction. Maybe the two went together.

We pulled up in front of the apartment building. I put on a pair of oversized sunglasses and pulled the hood of my jacket up. Even if this lady wasn't a crazy kidnapper, she was definitely mental. I didn't want her knowing I'd helped two of her students stalk her.

"So what do we do now?" Grover asked.

"We wait," Annabeth and I said together.

We got lucky. A half hour later, Mrs. M came out of her house, got in the van, and drove off. "Remember the plan," I said.

"Go in. Look around. Find Percy. Get Percy. Get out as fast as possible," Annabeth recited.

"We'll call you if she comes back."

"Good luck," Grover added.

She shook her head and got out of the car. We watched her enter the doors, and then we waited.

"So, why did you ask Luke?" Grover finally asked.

"I don't know. It was convenient. And he's being nice to me. It's weird."

"So are you going to tell him?"

"No. I'm kind of thinking of moving to Florida for the next six months. My grandpa's there. And he knows. And then I could find some nice couple, do the…you know…adoption, and move on with my life." Out loud, it didn't sound half as good, or realistic.

"You think that would…oh man." Grover said, his eyes widening as the van pulled back up. Mrs. M got out, and she was holding…tanks of gas?

"Duck," I told him. She wouldn't recognize me, but he'd be a dead giveaway that something was up. I immediately pulled out my phone and called Annabeth. She didn't pick up. Then I heard something vibrating. I reached down into the crack of the passenger seat, and sure enough.

"Dammit!" I swore, holding her phone in my hand. "Grover, what do we do?"

He peeked his head back up. "Call the police?"

"And what if this is nothing?"

"But what if she's some creepy axe murder and kills Annabeth?"

"But what about-"

We heard this giant explosion and both looked at the building.

The entire second floor was on fire.

"Think we should-"

"Calling the police right now."

I ran up the stairs with a speed that was almost superhuman. I felt this rush of adrenaline kick in, and I realized I was excited. I wanted to be the girl who found Percy Jackson. Now that would impress an Ivy League college.

The way the building was set up, it seemed like each floor was its own apartment, but it didn't seem like too many other people were living here. If they did, they either were all on vacation, or they were awfully quiet. My footsteps seemed way too loud.

Predictably, the door to the second floor was locked, but I'd done my research. I pulled out my dad's credit card and messed with the lock a little bit. Thankfully, it clicked open after a few seconds. The room it opened up to was pretty bare. There was a refrigerator, a table, and a couple cabinets. It smelled like something was rotting.

Oh God. I hoped it wasn't a dead body.

From there, the little kitchen merged into a little living room. Again, there wasn't really anything to show that this place was lived in. I wondered if she was even legally living here. It didn't seem like the landlord came by all that much. Seriously, the building was a dump.

There was a little hallway. The first door, which was hanging open, revealed a small bathroom. There wasn't even a toothbrush there. The other door that was open led into a bedroom. The sheets were perfectly made on the bed, and the pillows straightened perfectly. But that wasn't what caught my attention.

An entire wall was covered with photographs. Of her. Of Dean King. Of her and Dean King together. But what scared me the most was one that had been tacked on top of the others – it must have been Percy's school picture. There was an X drawn over his face, and darts were covering it. I reached into my pocket to grab my phone so I could take a picture, but then I realized it was gone.

I darted out of that room and faced the last door. Taking a deep breath, I opened it.

The room was dark, so without thinking, I flipped the light on. There was nothing but a little bed and dresser, and an unconscious teenager tied to a chair.

He was here. He was alive.

I wanted to jump up and down and scream in excitement, but that could wait. First, I needed to get him out of here.

Every inch of bare skin was covered with bruises, and his right eye was swollen so badly I doubted he could open it. Blood was caked in his hair where there was a deep gash that probably would need stitches.

I grabbed the pocketknife I'd swiped from my dad (I'm sure he'd understand that and the credit card once he knew the circumstances) and quickly sliced through the ropes on his hands that kept him bound to the chair. Then I didn't know what to do. Did I wake him up? Did I just try and carry him back to the car?

Fortunately, he woke up right then. "Annabeth?" he asked.

I smirked. "Come on, we have to hurry up. I don't know how much longer she's going to be gone."

He stood up, but his legs wouldn't hold him. I rushed over to him and caught him before he fell. "I…it's been a month…and I've been stuck here…and…I'm not gonna be able to walk," he said, sounding scared and hopeless.

"Yes, you can." I put his arm over my shoulders. "Come on, just lean on me."

We took a few steps, but they were at an agonizingly slow pace. I hoped Mrs. M wasn't coming back any time soon.

My heart sank when I heard the door slam. "Oh, Percy. I'm back, and I have a surprise for you!"

His eyes grew wide with fear, and he suddenly looked a lot like one of those dogs you see in the commercials trying to raise money for abused animals. As quickly as I could, I set him back in the chair. "Act normal," I whispered, looking for somewhere to go before deciding the only place was under the bed.

I saw her feet walk into the room, and I could faintly smell some chemical, but it wasn't strong enough to place. "I'm here to give you your final choice." Her voice had this crazy lilt to it. "Call your dad and get him to help you right now, or you're going to die."

I couldn't help but gasp. Grover and I had been right!

"I'm telling you, I don't know him. Please, just let me go."

I saw her walk around the room and heard her pour fluid all over the floor.

Gasoline.

"I'll light this whole place on fire and we'll die together. Won't that be sweet?" She laughed. "I can't live without him, and you don't deserve to live if you're hiding him from me."

"You're insane!" Percy shouted.

"Don't ever call me that!" she roared and stomped over to him. I couldn't see what happened next, but I heard her pouring gasoline, and couldn't see it hit the floor, so she was…pouring it on him?

Using the element of surprise, which was probably the only advantage we were going to have, I wiggled out from under the bed and hit her on the back of the head as hard as I could. She stumbled for a few seconds before turning to face me.

"You. Just like your damn mother, always getting involved where you're not welcome." She tried to grab me, but I ducked and found myself right next to Percy. His eyes were wide, and he was shaking. My adrenaline was pumping – I didn't even feel scared.

She lunged at me, and I pushed her away. She crumpled to the ground for a few seconds – I hadn't pushed her that hard, had I? I grabbed Percy told him to hold on. He swung his arms over my shoulders and I started running as fast as I could through her house. What had formerly seemed so small now seemed impossibly huge.

"You little bitch! I hate you! And I hate you, Percy Jackson! I hope you and your father rot in hell," she shouted from the bedroom. "I don't want to live without him. Why can't you just tell me where he is? I don't want to live without him!"

That was when she lit the place on fire.

I ran as fast as we could, not even thinking about what would happen if the fire caught up to us. We made it out of the apartment, the whole time hearing her haunting screams as she…as she…

She'd covered the stairs with gas, so we weren't safe yet. I ran as fast as I could, Percy clinging to me tightly.

We were down on the first floor when I heard an ear-shattering explosion. I slammed through the door before falling to the sidewalk. Suddenly, that adrenaline rush was gone, and I was just a scared teen. On some level, I realized that the apartment – maybe even the entire building – had blown up, and Mrs. M had been inside it.

"We have to go back. We have to go back!" Percy was insisting while Grover and Thalia held him back. "She's still in there!"

Stockholm Syndrome. I couldn't believe my brain was functioning well enough to be able to place what he was feeling.

"Percy, if she was in there, she's gone now," Thalia whispered gently. "You're okay now."

He pushed them both away and curled into a ball, crying. He was covered in gasoline and bruises – it made me wonder what I looked like.

Right before the cop cars arrived, Percy grabbed my arm and frantically told me, "We can't tell them about Dean King."

Thalia snorted. "Why the hell not? He's the reason that psycho abducted you."

"It's just…I know it's important." He grabbed my arm, digging his nails into my skin. "You agree with me, right?"

"If that's what you want." He'd been trapped with her for a month. He deserved to do whatever he wanted.

The police came. The fire department was called. They took statements from each of us. I was amazed at how easy it was to make up a lie – Grover and I were coming over to get help on a project, and we were hanging out with Thalia later, so she'd driven us. It wasn't like Mrs. M was around to contradict us.

Percy told them about how I'd found him, and then Mrs. M had torched the place. He told the police that she'd always been obsessed with him, but he had no idea why. His voice shook, and he was still shaking. I think it helped him get away with a less-than-convincing delivery. Still, the police looked at Grover, completely clean, with skeptical gazes.

Reporters were there immediately. The police tried to shoo them away, but not before they got a few pictures. It was only then that it occurred to me – Percy had at some point in all the chaos grabbed my hand, and he still hadn't let go.

And I guess after everything that had just happened, that was okay.