Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 41105 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 206(@200wpm)___ 164(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41105 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 206(@200wpm)___ 164(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
Autumn, too…
If she’s okay—if I find her and she’s fine, she has to return to London after this, no matter how she feels. No matter how much it may hurt.
Until I’m done.
I speed down my driveway and enter the house.
“Adeline?” I call her name.
No answer.
I take out my gun and scan the hallways, opening the doors to every room I near.
“Adeline!” I call her name again, trying not to sound upset, but it’s no use.
Approaching her bedroom door, I barge inside and am met with nothingness. The sheets on her bed are gone, save for the fitted one, and there’s no trace of her in the bathroom suite either.
I continue checking all the rooms on the upper level before I force myself to call in reinforcements.
“Get me all the footage on the road cameras for the past hour,” I command. “And I want clear-ass pictures of the license plate from every car that drove by this week.”
“Right away, sir.”
The pain in my chest is unbearable—all too familiar to the pain I felt when I lost every member of my family on the same night. And if the past is truly prologue, I’ll never come close to getting over it.
“The garden grounds and guest grounds are clear, sir.”
“What about the pool?”
“We’re checking now.”
Unwilling to take their word without checking myself, I wander through the grounds myself, but there’s nothing.
I call Adeline.
No ring. Straight to voicemail.
Autumn, next.
Same.
Thinking of where else they could be, I head down the tree-lined exit of the estate, where the underground wine cellar stands.
When I’m halfway there, I spot a soft light flickering in the distance. Following it, I notice that it’s coming from a guest villa I stopped using years ago.
Drawing my gun, I move closer and closer, until I’m staring right at the light’s source: a standing candle near the window.
Since its mountain of wax is blocking my view, I move to the side of the villa and peer through the window.
The pain in my chest dissolves, settling into relief.
Adeline is leaning against Autumn’s shoulder, smiling as they stare at something in a book. They’re bundled together in the sheets from Adeline’s bed, completely clueless about the havoc their run to safety has caused.
Seeing them together is a glimpse of something I wish I could give to Adeline forever, but… at the rate things are going, that may be something that never comes true.
“You can call off the search,” I call Warner. “I found them.”
“Copy, sir. Will you be joining me in your office at the estate now?”
“No,” I say. “I’ll let you know when I’m en route.”
“But… You were followed by four cars at a distance tonight,” he says.
“I’m aware.” I keep staring through the window. “Two black BMWs, a white Elantra, and a grey Audi.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Were they FBI or men with Banks?”
“I don’t know.”
“Call me back when you do.”
“The Audi had Miss Jane’s full name written in the dust on its back windshield,” he says. “Whoever it is, is sending a message… Please return, sir.”
“I’ll be right there.”
End of Episode 21
Can’t Stay Here
EPISODE 22
Autumn
Icross the parking lot slowly, gravel crunching under my boots. One of Ryder’s men adjusts his earpiece, the other scans the shadows near the porch. I pretend not to notice—pretend this feels normal now.
My Airbnb looms ahead, still and dark.
The front steps creak beneath my weight, louder than they should. I pause at the keypad, half-expecting the code to blink red after so much time.
It flashes green.
The door opens with a click I don’t remember being that loud.
Inside, the air is stale and still.
My footsteps fade into silence as I move into the foyer, scanning the open floor plan.
My shoes are still lined up neatly by the door—exactly how I left them.
But the blanket on the couch is too neatly folded. The kitchen light hums. A spoon rests beside the sink, wet.
And the bathroom door, which I know I closed, hangs wide open.
Something’s off.
I can’t name it, but I feel it under my skin. Like the house is holding its breath.
Maybe the landlord came to check on the place. My car hasn’t been here in days, and I’m behind on the stay.
Still, I move slower than usual. Quieter.
I collect what I came for: a duffel from the coat closet, half-stuffed with clothes I actually like wearing; my favorite violin from the wall hook—I want to show it to Adeline; and a thin stack of notes I kept on Ryder. Original research, old addresses, fragmented timelines from when I was still trying to make sense of him.
Maybe I’ll add them to Kylie’s binder. Maybe I’ll throw them away.
I zip the bag, sling it over my shoulder, and head back outside.
The sky is washed in pale gold, and distant traffic hums as a soft backdrop.
I’m halfway across the parking lot, just steps from the car, when—