Milo stepped forward, uncuffing me first, then Logan, then turning to Harris. “I just got off the phone with the manager. I convinced him not to press charges against any of them.”
Harris stood, flexing his shoulders and angrily brushing his hands down his starched button-down. “Don’t come crawling back to me, Georgia. We’re through.”
“Harris, don’t be hasty.” Mom made a move toward him. “This was just a misunderstanding. I’m sure tomorrow you’ll feel—”
“Sweetheart.” Dad reached out and placed a hand on Mom’s shoulder. She swung a bewildered glance at him. “Enough,” he said, his voice firm even though his look was gentle.
Mom stared at Dad, her mouth working for speech. I could have hugged my father right then, so grateful that he had decided to shake off his usual apathy.
Harris brushed past Mom and walked out of the station without another word.
Mom stared after him for a moment, as though he were her last great hope for me. Turning, she found us all staring at her. She fixed a plastic-looking smile to her lips and patted her cousin’s arm. “Well. Thank you so much, Milo. We really appreciate it. I promise you won’t be seeing Georgia in here ever again. We’ll have a stern talk to her as soon as we get home. We’ll get her straightened out and on the right path again, I promise.” Mom laughed awkwardly. “You would have thought we’d have had this trouble with her in high school, not now.”
I bristled and rubbed me newly freed wrists, hating that she was talking about me like I was a delinquent fifteen-year-old.
She faced me again, sent Logan a dismissive look, and then, taking my elbow, tugged me forward. “Let’s get you home, Georgia.”
I dug in my heels. “Mom, this is Logan.”
Her eyes narrowed on me, refusing to glance his way and acknowledge him. She was never this rude, which only told me she didn’t think he was deserving of good manners. “I know who he is. He showed up at the house and spoke with your sister. She lied and told me he was a friend of Jeremy’s. I’ll be taking that up with her later.”
So that explained all the texts and calls from my sister. She had told Logan where to find me.
“Now let’s go home, Georgia.” Her clasp tightened on me, growing more determined.
I pulled my arm free and moved to Logan’s side. “I’m not going home with you, Mom.”
Her panicked gaze flitted from me to Logan. “W-what?”
“I’m going back to Dartford. I’m going to finish my degree there, and when it’s done I’m going to look for a job that best suits me . . . which I doubt will be in Muskogee.” I looked up at Logan and wrapped my arm around his waist. He in turn wrapped his arm around me. “And I’m going to be with my boyfriend.”
Logan stared down at me with such pride in his eyes. The pride I had always been looking for from my mother but never found. It was there, given so freely in his gaze.
“Georgia.” Mom had moved closer to whisper her words, clearly embarrassed that others were listening. “What are you doing?”
“I’m choosing my fate. I can’t live for you. I can’t live fighting every day to prove to you that I’m not my father.”
It was like I struck her. The blood left her face. Her chest lifted on a ragged breath. “You do this on your own.”
I nodded, smiling slightly. “I’m okay with that.”
She stared at me like I was a stranger in front of her. And I guess I was. I was new to myself, too. It was going to take her a while to learn to accept this Georgia, but she would. Eventually. I believed that. At the core of it all, she loved me. And yet, I wasn’t going to fall apart if she didn’t accept me. Because this new me was strong enough to be who I wanted to be regardless of what she did or didn’t do.