Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 68870 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68870 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
My heart leaps in my throat when I read it.
Naomi,
Wait. I’m coming for you.
You’re mine,
R
I hold the letter to my chest and feel the tears of relief begin to fall. Last night he tried to tell me, didn’t he? There is so much more at play than I’ve ever realized. I have my own secrets with helping the other side, why should it be so surprising that he has secrets, too? The letter only contains those few words, but it’s all I need to know.
I should have trusted my instincts with Ryan. I knew from the moment my lips touched his that I would belong to him, heart, body and soul, until the end of time.
In the days that follow I watch the news and find out as much as I can. I learn that a few people were injured in the bomb blast, but no one died. The Leader’s wife was lucky to come away with a few scrapes and non-life-threatening burns, while The Leader himself remained unscathed. When I watched a replay of the events I saw how he ducked under some chairs but pushed his wife in front of him. He was a coward. I know that if I were there with Ryan, he would have given his life for mine. Without question he would have protected me from harm.
From what the reports say, The Regime is still trying to locate the bride and groom. And oddly enough, the wedding musicians are missing. No one has been able to locate them yet, and I cling to the hope that they are with Ryan and they’re all okay.
The media begins to refer to it as the Sunrise Bombing, and as days pass afterward I hear nothing. I keep my head down at work and try to stay busy, but I worry about Ryan every moment. I try to send a coded note to the other side in the book we use to pass messages back and forth, but nothing comes back.
The Regime reports catching the nurse and the man who had created the diversion, but so far nobody has seen any evidence that this is true. It is typical for them to make up a lie, only this time, fewer believe it. It’s obvious they would have made a big display if they had caught someone.
I spend days at work poring over the footage from the news and the reports in the newspapers. Anything I can get my hands on. But there are no photos of the bride or of her accomplice.
Just like the leaders had given the public no real evidence that they had captured Insurgent Number One, who had shot and killed Brad Chalmers. Allegedly.
When a week passes I start to lose hope, and I think about quitting my job. I could go and look for Ryan. I know where all the tunnels are. At any moment, I could climb into one of them and look for him. But then I pull out his note and read over the simple words and I go back to work and try to keep my faith in him. In us.
Ryan is it for me. I have to believe that he will come back, because the alternative is too much to bear. I can’t think about something happening to him, or him being caught. It’s too painful to think that I might never again see the man I’ve fallen in love with. It was only a few short hours that we had together, but they were the best in my life. I sometimes think for a moment I made it all up in my mind, but then when I look at the note, I know it’s real. What we had was real.
Chapter Eight
Naomi
I’m going through the motions at work, but nothing feels the same anymore. My heart still aches for Ryan, and worry has taken hold. I can’t stop the IFs that play out in my head day and night. I can’t push away the thoughts of what I could have done differently.
Every day I try to get lost in work. I sort through the bin of returned children’s books from the other side, and my coworker makes snide remarks about the grubby little hands of the poor kids. I’m shaking my head and placing books on the wheeled cart when I spot the cover of our secret exchange book. I look around for spying eyes, then open it up and out falls an envelope. Inside I find a yellow sticky note and a couple of magazine pages stapled together. I read the note and my heart pounds in my chest.
It’s almost time, but I need your help.
Please copy and distribute any way you can.
Keep it anonymous and keep yourself safe.
I’m coming for you.
It’s not signed, but the handwriting is so familiar to me it might as well be my own. For the first time in the past few weeks a spark of true hope lights in my chest. It’s not forced and it’s not one I have to pretend I feel. It’s Ryan and he’s okay.