by Katie Moon
Brielle smiled gratefully. “And you.” Her eyes filled with tears. “And Eric.”
Mason watched her, deep pity evident on his face. “At least you know he was innocent in all of this,” he said gently. When she did not respond, he spoke again. “You’re at a pivotal moment, Brielle. Randall took Eric away from you, made you suffer more than anyone ever should. He spilled his paint on your canvas. Don’t let him ruin your masterpiece, okay?”
Brielle sniffled noisily and ran her arm across her eyes, mopping up her tears. She was surprised by his insight and confidence. Wasn’t this the same nervous, awkward boy who usually avoided eye contact when he spoke? “When did you become so wise all of a sudden?” she said, laughing shakily.
Mason let out a soft chuckle. “I guess facing life and death gave me new perspective,” he said, smiling appreciatively.
Brielle laughed again and fell silent. “So what’s next?” she asked finally. “How do we go on with a normal life after something like this?”
Mason’s face contorted in concentration for a moment before he shrugged. “I don’t really know. Find ways to heal, find a purpose to drive you, and find people to stand by you,” he listed. “For me, it took you almost dying for me to realize I’ve let my past hamper my future for too long. So I called and set up an appointment with a shrink. Maybe you should consider it, too.”
Brielle nodded, thinking hard. Find a purpose to drive you. The plans she had drawn out for her life before Eric’s death all seemed so empty of substance now. She had always assumed her life would be intertwined with his, but now he was gone. Wherever she was, though, Brielle was determined to keep him there with her.
I’m not who I was two weeks ago, she thought firmly. And I’ll never be that person again. But Mason was right. She was the artist of her own life. What did she want her masterpiece to be?
“Brielle!”
Brielle looked around, her thoughts interrupted by a hoarse yelp from the door to her hospital room. Standing in the doorway was Brielle’s mother, looking out of breath and like she had seen a ghost. Her face was pale white except for splotches of red around each eye, and it was clear she had been weeping.
Brielle let out an anguished cry, and her mother tackled her in a hug, squeezing her tightly. Brielle could feel tears sliding down her cheeks as her mother shook with sobs in her arms.
“I-I thought I’d l-l-lost you,” her mother sniffled, shoulders shuddering as she cried harder. “When they called, they didn’t know if—if you’d m-make it. I thought—” She broke off, overcome as she collapsed into tears.
“I’m okay, Mom,” Brielle soothed as she wiped away her own tears. “Really, I’m fine, you don’t need to worry.”
“They said he tried to strangle you, I was terrified—”
“Mom, it’s okay, really. Randall tried, but Mason stopped him. He saved me,” Brielle said, easing her mother away and gesturing to Mason. He had been silently observing their embrace, clearly not wanting to interfere with such a personal moment for mother and daughter.
Brielle’s mother smiled tearfully at Mason. “I will always be in debt to you, young man,” she said kindly.
For the third time that day, Brielle saw a faint blush spread across Mason’s cheeks as he said quickly, “It’s nothing. I’m just glad I could be there in time.”
“It’s very much a thing,” her mother sniffed, turning back to look at Brielle. “It’s just, I couldn’t help but think of that poor girl Claire Kunis’s mother and how she’ll never get to hold her girl again, and I just—I couldn’t imagine—” She took a tremendous sniff and looked back intently at Mason. “You gave me back my girl. It’s very much a thing.”
The couple she had seen at the police station days ago flashed back through Brielle’s mind, and she felt as if her lungs were abruptly compressed by a heavy weight. They would never get to hold their daughter again. We stopped Randall, maybe, she thought, but how many other killers were out there, unidentified and free to inflict that same pain on another mother and father? At least Claire’s parents would be able to give her a proper burial and experience some small amount of closure now that Randall was apprehended. How many parents didn’t even know what had happened to their child? How many mothers stayed up into the early hours of the morning, unable to find sleep because of the questions and worries that plagued them? How many fathers waited to hear the phone ring with news of their child, even months after all realistic hope of answers had disappeared?
Somewhere in the back of Brielle’s mind, a switch flipped.
“Well, Rebecca and John are waiting downstairs. They wanted to know that you’re okay,” Brielle heard her mother say. “Poor Rebecca, she was looking like this whole thing has just about crushed her to dust. They’re so happy to know Eric’s killer was caught though. Unless you’d rather me not leave you for a while?” she said anxiously, looking at her daughter.
“No, that’s okay, you go ahead,” Brielle said distractedly. Her mother patted her softly on the cheek before standing up, smiling tenderly at her as tears formed in her eyes again.
“And Mom?”
Brielle’s mother stopped. “Yes, baby?”
“Can I use your phone?” Brielle asked.
Her mother reached into her black purse hanging from her shoulder, pulled out a black smartphone, and held it out to Brielle. “And you,” Brielle’s mother said, rounding on Mason, “you are coming with me, mister. I want Eric’s parents to know exactly who they have to thank for all of this. Let’s go.” And with that, she grabbed Mason by the arm and steered him out of the room, gently deflecting Mason’s mumbles of “no big deal” and “don’t need thanks.”
Laughing slightly to herself as she watched the pair disappear at the door, Brielle turned back to the phone in her hand. She felt a rush of excitement run through her as she typed quickly on the screen. Find a purpose to drive you. Mason was right. And she thought she knew exactly what that was.
Brielle’s eyes scanned the screen quickly, reading each black line of text nervously.
“Bachelor’s degree in Psychology minimum. Master’s Preferred.” Well, perfect, she would have her master’s soon enough.
“Critical thinking skills and capable problem solver in a high-stress environment.” She felt confident that she qualified, especially after these past two weeks.
“Able to pass a rigorous, intensive background check.” That should be no problem.
“A strong desire to do one’s civic duty and protect the innocent.” Absolutely.
Brielle leaned back onto her pillow and stared up at the speckled white ceiling. She had never considered this course before. It felt right, though. Find a purpose to drive you. This could be her purpose. To protect other mothers and fathers from losing their children. To protect other women from losing the love of their lives. To stop evil’s paint from spreading on other canvasses.
Brielle read the bold title at the top of the screen once more. “QUALIFICATIONS FOR PROFESSIONAL CRIMINAL PROFILER-Apply Below”.
Time to start painting.
SIX MONTHS LATER
Mason clicked his fingers gently against the table and looked around. Everywhere, he saw gaggles of students crowded around, buzzing noisily with chatter. Several students were bent over textbooks, muttering quietly to themselves. It’s that time of year again, Mason thought with a smile. Exams were setting in like an impending hurricane, and every college kid felt the weather changing.
Mason clicked his tongue absently as he checked his watch. He had arrived a couple minutes early. He thought the trip up to campus was going to take much longer with how busy he expected it to be, but he had made good time. He figured that it was because of the beautiful weather they were having. There were probably a lot of students out enjoying the sun, getting a head start on their summer break.
Just as he was deciding if he should grab a sandwich while he waited, he heard a voice.
“Mason!”
Turning, he saw Bri
elle walking toward him, smiling. He waved and stood up. Every time he saw her, he marveled at how much she had changed in the past six months. Following Eric’s murder, she had developed a sunken, ghostly look, having lost too much too fast as a result of her terrible trauma. Now her cheeks were rosy and full, and she looked healthy again. The hair that had hung lifeless and unkempt after Eric’s untimely death had regained its former curl and bounce, although she had chopped it to hang above her shoulders. The most dramatic change, however, had been in her eyes. In the days following Eric’s murder, Brielle’s eyes had become haunted, the terror unmistakable. Mason remembered seeing the torture in her eyes and wondering if she would ever escape the horror that had taken her life captive. Now, though, her wide brown eyes shone brightly with energy, and they were no longer framed by dark circles.
“It’s so good to see you,” Brielle said warmly as she gave him a gentle hug.
“It really is. How are you doing?” Mason replied, grinning as they both settled into the plastic cafeteria chairs.
“I’m doing well,” Brielle said, nodding happily. “I’m glad we finally made time to get together. It’s been, what, three months?”
“Just about,” Mason agreed. “We were due for lunch.”
“Agreed,” Brielle said. “Are finals killing you like they are everyone else?”
Mason laughed. “Slowly and painfully, yes. What about you?”
“I have one more test after this, and then I’m done!”
“That’s amazing!” Mason exclaimed. “So happy for you.”
“Thanks,” she said, smiling. She looked around wistfully at the cafeteria. “It’s hard to think it’s almost time to leave this place, his and my place,” she admitted.
Mason knew she meant Eric. “How has it been going with that? Are you still struggling a lot with him gone?”
She exhaled slowly. “He’ll always be a part of me, so it will always be hard with him gone. But I promised myself I would live for both him and me. So I’m making the most of it,” she said, her voice getting a little stronger. “I’m determined to be happy, because that’s what he would’ve wanted for me. And I deserve to be happy.”
“Well said,” Mason said approvingly. “Has the counseling been helping?”
“I think so,” Brielle replied, nodding. “It got worse for a while when I first started, but I think that’s just how it goes. Now it’s definitely better. I’m not having nearly as many nightmares as I used to.” She pulled out a water bottle from her backpack and took a quick sip before continuing. “And for you? How’s it going?”
Mason nodded slowly, looking into the distance as he recalled the many hours of sitting in an armchair as his counselor scribbled on a notepad, gently dissecting his thoughts. “I’ve had a lot to work through. Basically my whole life. But I’ve made a lot of progress. And they think if I can work through my childhood first, since that’s really at the heart of it all, the rest will be easier to disentangle.”
Brielle smiled gently. “That’s great, Mason.” She leaned over and patted his shoulder before laughing. “We look like we’re going on a yearlong adventure with all of the baggage we’ve got.”
Mason snorted loudly. “That’s what life’s all about, right? Continuing to put one foot in front of the other, no matter how much the baggage wants to hold us back,” he joked.
“That’s right. We’re messes, but we’re messes who persevere!”
Mason and Brielle shared a loud high-five before sitting back in laughter.
“And have you heard back?” Mason asked after his laughs died away.
Brielle nodded excitedly. “In two months, I’ll be starting at the Durham Police Academy. Then I’ll go through a few more specific training programs specific to profilers. If all goes well, I’ll start getting field experience soon after.”
“That is incredible. Do you think you’ll stick around here?”
Brielle made a contemplative face before answering. “I don’t know. I doubt it, though. I’ve gone back and forth on it, but I’m still looking long-term at joining the FBI, so that would end up relocating me anyway. I might get better field experience in a place like California or New York until then, though,” she said.
“Smart,” he said, nodding. “We’ll miss you around here.”
Brielle grinned. “What about you?”
“Well, Rebecca and John have offered to set up a couple interviews with contacts at the big tech companies out in LA, so I may end up there,” Mason said. When Mr. And Mrs. Artimer had discovered that Mason had taken down their son’s killer, they had insisted in providing some amount of support for Mason’s education. Through the months that followed, they had become quite close.
“I’m so glad they have you,” Brielle said fervently. “I think they feel like they have a bit of Eric when they are with you.”
Mason nodded. They had lost a son, and he had never really had loving parents. It was a good fit for both sides. “So yeah,” he continued, “L.A. may be my final destination. Especially since Elena will be in California, too.”
“I can’t believe you have a girlfriend!” Brielle gushed, punching Mason gently on the shoulder. “She’s so lucky, and you. She seemed really great.”
Mason smiled warmly. “She’s amazing.” He had met a beautiful woman in his Digital Logic class named Elena. She reminded him of the warm breeze at the end of a summer’s day. She was spirited but soft, independent but accepting. Mason had first introduced Brielle to Elena when they had met for lunch three months ago. His smile spread wider across his face. Both he and Elena were graduating in six months. Elena had only just told him a week ago that she had accepted an intern position in Pasadena, California. If all went according to plan, he would be living no more than a half hour away from her.
“So you think she could be the one?”
Mason shrugged. “I don’t know if there is ‘the one’. But she believes in me and respects me, and I try to do the same for her. So yeah, at least for now, I’d like to choose her as my one,” he said, grinning broadly. There was a warmth in his chest that he had only come to know well in the past six months. “We’ll see what happens next. With a little time, we’ll get to see what the future holds.”
Brielle smiled at him before turning to look around the room. She let out a gentle sigh.
“What?” Mason asked.
She turned to look back at him, her face glowing. “I just never thought I’d feel this again, after Eric died.”
“Feel what?”
Her smile widened so that her dazzling smile shone like a beacon of happiness. “Peace.”
Mason looked around the busy, bustling cafeteria. He thought back on the many times he had sat, cowering in a corner, afraid to be rejected by the crowds around him. Brielle was right. The traumas and horrors of their past would always be there. They would always be trying to wrap their shadowy tentacles around them, trying to suck them back into the black hole of despair. But they had fought. And they had conquered.
And they had found peace.