"Yes. Not that the police are doing anything about it. They talked to the manager of the maze, and because he said he doesn't have anybody working for him that dresses like that, they say it had to be a figment of my imagination. According to them, I ran into barbed wire because I was too scared to know what was happening," I say.
"That's bullshit," my father sighs. He looks embarrassed. "I'm sorry."
"No," I say, shaking my head. "I think that about sums it up. But I really am fine. You didn't need to come all the way out here just to check on me.”
“I will come anywhere I need to check on you. You might be an adult, but you will always be my baby. I missed ten years of checking on you and taking care of you when you were hurt or sick. I'm not missing it one more time. Besides, I just finished an investigation. I thought maybe I could help with what's going on here,” he says.
“Maybe,” I say. “But first I have to actually figure out what's going on. It's so confusing. Just when I think I've figured something out or I'm on the right path, a complete detour will happen, and I'm totally thrown off track again.”
“That's happened before,” he notes. “And you always get through it. Have you talked to Sam?”
“I called him last night. He wanted to come, but I stopped him. He's already taking so much time away from Sherwood, I don't want to cause him any more trouble,” I say.
A sudden realization hits me, and I hang my head low.
Dad tilts his head to look at my face as I stare down at my lap.
“What's wrong?” he asks.
“I forgot to make his cinnamon rolls,” I say.
“What?” he asks.
“When I was at home, I promised I would make him cinnamon rolls and put them in the freezer so he could have them when I wasn't there. Then I got the call from Creagan saying Xavier had gotten a hearing about a new trial, and he was securing a search warrant for the temple. I was so wrapped up, I completely forgot,” I explain.
“It's just cinnamon rolls,” Dad says. “I'm sure Sam is fine.”
“He is,” I nod. “And that's the problem. He's fine with it. He shouldn't be. Because it's not just cinnamon rolls. It's something I told him I would do for him; then, I brushed it aside because of work. I don't want to do that. I don't want to be that person. It's why I broke up with him in the first place.”
“What do you mean?” he frowns.
The realization sinks in that my father wasn't around when Sam and I broke up. He didn't experience that with me.
“After you disappeared, Sam tried to be there for me. He was amazing. He always has been,” I say.
“He has,” Dad says. “I knew from the time you two were little that there was something special between you. When you started dating, I figured that was it. You two were going to be together forever.”
“Exactly,” I say. “He was absolutely everything to me. I couldn't imagine a single moment of my life without him, and that meant I couldn't think about anything else. I had never gotten over that I didn't know what happened to Mama. She was gone, and nobody was ever going to tell me what happened. There were so many stories, so many lies, and cover-ups.”
“I'm sorry,” he says, his lips pulled tight into a remorseful grimace. “I'm sorry I ever put you through that. I thought it was what was right, that it would help you.”
“It didn't,” I say. “It made me confused and anxious. It wasn't until I was an adult that I realized I believed completely conflicting things about her death. But when you disappeared, too, I knew I had to do something about it. I couldn't just keep studying art and thinking everything in the world was fine. Because it wasn't. And I wanted to change that. So, I decided to join the Bureau.”
“I don't understand what that has to do with Sam.”
“Before I went into the academy, I knew that I couldn't stay with him. It just wouldn't work. Because he was so perfect. Because we were so good with each other. All I wanted was to be in Sherwood and have a home with him. Which would mean I would never be able to concentrate on investigations. I would never be able to really throw myself into the career I decided I wanted. I never wanted to be a woman who chose her work first and forgot about the little things. And I never wanted to neglect my work and possibly ruin an investigation or let a bad guy go because I was too focused on home.
“I broke up with Sam, so we’d never get to a point in our relationship when something was suffering. I always believed it was going to be my work. That I wouldn't be able to concentrate, or that I wouldn't feel comfortable doing investigations or field work because I wouldn't want to get hurt. But now I realize I didn't put my career at risk to be with Sam. I'm putting being with Sam at risk. I can't do that,” I say. “He doesn't deserve that.”
“Emma, what he deserves is you. Sam loves you. He always has. So, you forgot to make him cinnamon rolls. There was a lot going on. He understands. His father was sheriff before him. He knows what it is to be a part of law enforcement,” Dad says.
I shake my head slowly. “I just don't know. Every single fiber of my being wants to be with him. But I want him to be happy. I want him to be able to have the kind of life he imagined. What if I can't give that to
