By the end of June, Melody’s life had been turned upside down. The detectives were right. There had been a press conference and reporters were still camped outside her home six months after news broke of her attack. 

     Her neighbors in her upscale neighborhood were sympathetic to her ordeal, but they were frustrated with the careless media. The neighbor’s yards as well as that of her parents’ had been torn up by the tents and crews of the press, but the paparazzi didn’t seem to care. 

     In addition to the media, the two detectives had been at her home almost weekly since she left the hospital. She began to wish she had stayed at St. Vincent’s longer, as Dr. Bryant had suggested. She could have used the peace the security of the hospital had provided.  

     She learned from Det. Salvatore that the reason the special crime detectives hadn’t been at the hospital that night was because of a sting operation that rescued a house full of trafficked girls. With their case load full and her case being part of the murder investigation of the Devil’s Advocate, handling of her statements were turned over to the homicide detectives. 

     She had seen the councilor to whom Det. Fang had referred her, and she’d helped a bit. The healing had to come from within, and she knew she would never get it among the smothering chaos.  

     She threw her blow drier into her suitcase and zipped it shut. She taped the note she’d used to write her mother a message onto her dressing table mirror.  She wanted Mrs. Norah to know she hadn’t been taken or run off to do herself harm.  

     She needed to be away from all the hoopla for a while and go where no one knew her. She had been afraid of the detectives’ concern that her attacker might come after her. This would be another worry off her shoulders once she was gone.  

     She knew the perfect safe place. She’d seen it in a listing on social media while looking through photos of the mountains. When she’d called to inquire upon it, she was told it had been purchased. 

     Luckily, the realtor in charge of showing the home had years before belonged to the same sorority as Melody, so she divulged some private information about the new owner. She couldn’t say much, but what she did say was enough for Melody’s current purpose. The owner was out of town and wouldn’t move in until fall.     

     It was the beginning of summer, so no one should be there. In addition, the place was still quite clean and in working order since it was recently on the market.  The previous owners were so eager to sell, they had paid extra to keep things running for another four months to give the realtor enough time to show it. There were clean linens, dishes, and even food. The cabin was completely equipped.  

     Melody called the realtor that morning to check that everything was still in working order. She told Melody she hadn’t been able to reach the previous owners to let them know it had been sold for them to turn the utilities off and move out the rest of their belongings. After their talk, the lady assured Melody she wouldn’t tell anyone anything until Melody was ready to leave. 

     Only the realtor knew where Melody would be, and no one but Melody knew she had even spoken to her in the first place. She knew it wasn’t a good idea to disappear without telling anyone where she was going, especially with her father in his deteriorating health, but she needed time. She needed to get away, and what better place than a picturesque cabin in Susquehannock State Forest. That was the kind of therapy she needed the most. At least for the time being.  

     She looked into the mirror and examined her face. Everything visible was back to normal. All she needed to do was wear bracelets and socks to cover her restraint scars. Her typical clothes covered the brand scars as she had nothing too revealing. To a stranger on the street, she was a lovely picture of health. It was a good lie to avoid talking about what really lay beneath. 

     When she was ready to leave and had given her sleeping father a kiss goodbye, she called her neighbor down the street. He was one of her accomplices when she needed to go to an appointment. 

     “Harry, it’s Melody. I have to see the councilor, and I can’t leave,” she lied. 

     “Will do, Melody,” he replied as per the norm. “Are you ready now?” 

     “Sure am,” she said eagerly. 

     “I’ll be out in a minute,” he promised and hung up. 

     She hurried out to the closed garage and threw her bags into her white Jeep, then she peeked out a small, purposely covered window in the garage door. She saw him hurry out of his house at the end of the block and shout to the media. 

     With a large video camera in his hand, he motioned for them to run his way. She laughed at the new trick. He obviously pretended to be a reporter who had just seen her. It worked because, like a pack of ravenous wolves, they grabbed their equipment and stampeded his way.   

     She pushed the button to raise the garage door and jumped into the vehicle, then hurried down the driveway and sped down the street in the opposite direction of the gullible press. By the time they realized they’d been fooled, it was too late.  She was free and clear to go her way without anyone to bother her for as long as she needed.  

     She drove in the direction of the retreat and the rising mountains far ahead. In four hours, she would be at the cabin, and everything would be all right. She felt it in her heart. She just needed to reach that cabin.