Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 119597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 478(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 598(@200wpm)___ 478(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
This isn’t merely a narrative to be read. With each page turned, I will be there with her, experiencing her strength, suffering, and courage.
I set it on the table, carefully tucking it into the folds of my discarded jacket.
“The last thing you should hear,” Kody says, pulling my attention to him. “Denver claimed we’re all blood-related. Leo, Wolf, me, him, you.”
I glance at Leo, unsure how he fits in. “I’m listening.”
“On his dying breath, he told us that you are his brother. That was the first confession. Except he said you have two brothers. His words were to the effect of…you ripped away his life, so he ripped away all of yours. The way he revealed it implied he took more than Frankie and your unborn baby.”
The notion that Denver, in his final moments, sought to justify his actions through such a twisted declaration of lies is fucking vile.
Two brothers? Where does he come up with this shit? What’s his motivation?
“If he took more than Frankie and the baby…” My mind spins. “He must mean Wolfson.”
“I assume. But he never told us Wolf was your son. We pieced that together today.”
“I don’t have another brother.” I steal another peek at Leo. “Will you both be willing to do a DNA test?”
“I’m already working on that.” Melanie’s gaze darts over us, not missing a beat. “Frankie has DNA samples for everyone at the cabin.”
“One more thing,” Kody continues. “Denver’s final words were a riddle, which led us to the missing flight manual. That’s how Leo learned to fly.”
“From a flight manual?”
“Yeah.” Kody’s eyes gleam. “With that hidden manual was a thumb drive.”
“What was on it?”
“Don’t know. When Denver died, he left us without food or power for four months. He deliberately skipped the last supply run and shut off the generator in his attempt to control us.”
That’s why they risked the flight today. Given their severe malnutrition, they were out of time. All of it illuminates the depth of Denver’s spiral into madness, painting a picture of the purest form of evil. Calculating. Soulless. Sinister for his own selfish reasons.
“I have the thumb drive,” Melanie says. “My team confirmed that the data on it survived the cold and the crash.”
I meet Kody’s eyes. “It may hold answers.”
“Or more riddles.”
“Monty.” Frankie’s whisper arrests my breath. “Come here.”
Kody stands resolute, a barrier to the distance I ache to erase. Then, reluctantly, he lets me pass.
As I approach, the world narrows to the space between me and my wife, every step landing with a significance that tightens my chest.
She extends her hand, a gesture so simple yet so laden with meaning. The instant my fingers enclose hers, I’m consumed by the warmth of her touch.
“You’re going to read some painfully graphic things in my journal.” Her eyes hold mine. “Including a hate letter I wrote to you. I’m sorry about that. I don’t want to hurt you, but I think you need to know…all of it. It explains how Denver controlled us, his demise, our escape, and every single day in between. I could filter it for you—”
“I don’t want it filtered.”
“Okay. Good. Because I would rather not relive most of it.” She glances at Leo and Kody. “None of us wants to relive it.”
The words dangle like daggers, heavy with pain and death.
Before I can respond, I see the fatigue crashing over her like a relentless wave and the tears that begin to spill from her eyes.
Goddammit.
Ignoring the animalistic growl behind me, I lean in and embrace her dangerously thin frame.
As she cries, I hold her tighter, despite the snarls, the tension, and the eyes burning into my back.
Her tears, warm and wet, seep through my shirt. But they’re tears of relief, of release.
There’s a long road ahead, with many more tears, but I’ll be with her, kissing away every single one.
Two days later, Leo pokes at a bowl of fluorescent green Jell-O and grimaces. “It wobbles.”
For a man who didn’t eat an actual meal for months, he sure does bitch about hospital food.
With the IVs gone and the nurses’ routine checks less frequent, we’re moving around the room and coveting our alone time.
Melanie Stokes has been in and out often, repeatedly going over our story and keeping the detectives at bay. We’ll have to answer their questions eventually.
We received our treatment plans, and I’m taking a fresh supply of birth control pills. Now we’re just waiting on paperwork and final assessments. I expect we’ll be released from the hospital tomorrow morning.
My heart quickens at the thought of what’s next?
We haven’t seen or heard from Monty since he left with my journal two days ago. Melanie said he returned the book to her yesterday, but she refused to comment on his appearance other than to reassure us he’ll be here when we’re discharged.
New clothes arrived last night. Expensive casual outfits in all our sizes, delivered by a personal shopper.