"Should I tell them about Terry?" I ask, once we're driving.

He looks at me, and then back at the road, not replying.

After Eric got off the phone he was paler than the stark walls of his apartment. He informed me he needs to go speak with the detectives working Julie's case, and that he wants me to come too. But he didn't say much else on the subject.

And I was happy to play along while we took a shower together, and he washed me head to toe, even lathered up my hair, seemingly enjoying every minute, as though it was his first time showering with a woman. Or maybe I just saw it that way, because it was the first time I showered with a man, and I enjoyed every minute. And I was quite happy to focus on just the fluttering butterflies in my stomach, the pleasant warmth of belonging rising in my chest as we got ready. But both of those are quickly getting replaced by icy dread, growing colder with each racing beat of my heart.

"Should I?" I ask again.

He shrugs. "If you want. But I think what he did was just a reaction to Julie's death. At least I've never seen him act that weird before. Or heard him talk like that."

"I know, the way he spoke, that's what spooked me the most," I say, chills running down my neck as I remember it. "It's the reason I ran. His voice, the tone of it, was just so eerie, like something out of a horror movie."

Eric glances at me, as though he's checking if I'm alright, and then squeezes my thigh reassuringly. "Terry's not usually like that. I think it's just the grief and the shock. But if you think the cops should know then tell them."

I get the distinct feeling he'd rather I didn't. But I also know he won't stop me, or get mad, if I do. All my training as a nurse is telling me I should mention the incident to the cops. But this is Eric's family, not some stranger. And maybe he knows best.

"I'll wait in the car," I tell him as we pull up to the police station.

He looks at me searchingly. "You sure?"

I nod. There'll be time to give my statement, tell the cops all about Terry's weird behavior yesterday, but right now I'll let Eric take the lead.

"I'll be back soon," he says, kissing my cheek and squeezing my hand reassuringly.

He locks the car door behind him, and it doesn’t make me feel trapped. It makes me feel safe.

My phone rings just as Eric enters the police station, trailed by an older gentleman in a three-piece suit, which I assume must be his lawyer.

"Wendy, it's so great to hear from you," I say as I pick up.

"Joy, are you alright? You haven't called for so long and then all those missed calls yesterday. Your dad's frantic," she says breathlessly, an annoyed edge in her voice.

"I'm fine, tell him I'm fine…I tried calling yesterday, but no one picked up—"

"He isn't here now, but I'll let him know," she interrupts. "I'm glad we have this time to talk, just the two of us. What's happening, Joy? How is that man treating you? You can tell me everything. I know you want to help your father, but I'm worried about you."

"I think I'm in love with Eric," I say the second she pauses for breath.

She sighs in exasperation. "You're so innocent and naive when it comes to men, Joy. And I love you for it. But guys like Eric Worthington, rich guys like that, they're all the same. Even people are just things to them, things they can buy and own, then discard when they no longer have a use for them. And they all want virgins, innocent women. Women just like you."

"Eric's not like that," I mutter, my voice shaky, because it's the only thing I can offer in my defense, in Eric's defense, and against the breadth of Wendy's experience it's not very much at all.

"I just don't want you to get hurt, Joy. You're too precious to get hurt by careless men." Wendy's voice actually cracks as she says it.

"Don't worry about me, please. Eric's a good man, he's not like those other ones, the ones you met."

She sighs again. "I hope so. Your dad just pulled up. Do you want me to put him on?"

Eric's standing in front of the police station, engaged in what looks like a heated discussion with his lawyer.

"Tell him I'll call back later," I mutter. "And please make sure he knows I'm fine."

"I'll try," she says, and I just say goodbye and hang up, because Eric is striding towards the car and he doesn’t look happy at all.

"Did it go well?" I ask as he climbs into the car. It's quite possibly the stupidest question anyone could ever ask, and I'm the one asking it.

But he smiles at me, cups my cheek and runs his thumb across my lips, not a trace of annoyance anywhere in his face. "No, Joy. It didn't go well. But it's done now."

I smile at him too. Wendy is so wrong about him. One day she'll meet him, and then she'll know just how wrong she is.

"Let's go for a swim now, what do you say?" he asks, and I nod since I'm too choked up to actually speak.