The Woman in Blue

Epilogue A year later, Misha sat at her computer. She was about to write the epilogue of her story—the story she was certain would sell like crazy. She thought back on the last year with a smile on her face… She had regained consciousness in the nearest hospital to where she had been rescued. How wonderful it was to see Dale’s face as she opened her eyes. She thought Dale looked beautiful. Just like hers was, her hair was now a few inches longer. “Please tell me you’re not just a dream,” she said. “Nope,” said Dale with a bright smile. “I’m for real, sweetie.” She lowered her lips toward Misha’s, and they kissed tenderly. Tears spilled from Misha’s eyes as well as Dale’s. “I was so afraid,” Misha said. “So afraid I’d never get to see you or touch you again.” Dale smiled warmly. Misha slowly sat up and glanced down at her arms and legs. “Oh, good, I’m not tied up. She kept me tied up most of the time.” A disturbing look crossed Dale’s face. “Yeah, well, she’s dead now.” “Good,” said Misha. “Now I’ll never have to face her again in court or be afraid of her breaking out of jail and coming after me.” Dale shook her head. “She can never hurt you or anyone else ever again, baby.” Misha smiled. “Thirsty?” Dale asked, picking up a glass of water. Misha nodded and gulped the water greedily. Then she remembered. “What is it, sweetie?” “Susie. I know there was someone…” “Relax. We found her. She’s going to be just fine after she gets her strength back. She’s very malnourished right now, and she’ll need a lot of therapy, but she’s going to pull through. She’s been asking for you. You’re her hero, she says.” “I’m glad she made it.” “A lot of people are calling you a hero. You certainly are my little hero. So is Mrs. Briggs.” “Who?” Dale told her about Mrs. Briggs and her ploy to help catch Gail and locate her whereabouts. “A raffle, what a great idea,” said Misha with a smile, just as a diminutive girl, similar in size and age to her, appeared in the doorway, guided by an older woman she assumed was her mother. “Is now a good time?” the graying woman asked. “I think so,” said Dale, glancing back at Misha. Misha turned toward the doorway as a small, very thin, strawberry-blond girl approached her. “Hi, I’m Susie,” she said shyly. “Hi,” Misha said, extending a hand toward the girl. Susie then bent down and threw her arms around Misha. “Thank you,” she sobbed. “Thank you so much.” “And thank you,” Misha replied. “For what?” “I began to suspect you were somewhere in the house, but it wasn’t until I heard you moaning when I was doing laundry on the other side of the cellar wall that I felt really motivated to try again to escape once it was confirmed there were two of us to save. I tried so many times before, but she’d just drag me back inside, assault me, and tie me back up.” A flash of anger crossed Dale’s face momentarily, then she softened and smiled lovingly at Misha. Misha left the hospital a few days later, telling Dale that she planned for her next trip to the hospital to be when she was in labor with their child—the one who would live long enough to one day hear of this rather sad and frightening experience. While still at the hospital outside of Yreka, she and Susie, who was in the room just next door, would visit each other constantly. Mrs. Briggs came to visit with homemade cookies, as well as numerous reporters. Most reporters portrayed Misha as the true heroine she really was, but a few of the nasty ones insisted that Misha went willingly with Gail to her new home, arranging to be picked up when Dale was out. Then, jealous of Susie, she supposedly went along with Gail’s decision to store Susie in the cellar like an old piece of furniture so she could reside with Gail in the main part of the house. Dale brought Misha home, and life went on, though it took a while for the nightmares to subside. They talked a lot and had sex like crazy. Little by little, Misha filled Dale in on what it had been like being held captive by the now-notorious Doctor Gail Kinkade. Dale listened, partly with disgust and anger evident on her face, but mostly with sympathy. The only thing Dale was grateful for was that Gail hadn’t sexually abused Misha. “And so that’s the whole story,” concluded Misha one day as they sat outside, enjoying the beautiful sunshine. Dale gazed into Misha’s eyes. “All I know is that the day I first laid eyes on you at the Sacramento Police Department was the day I fell in love with you.” Misha smiled. “Nothing’s changed, Misha. Nothing’s changed.” The two kissed passionately.