“Rest up,” he suggests before dropping the pan in the sink. “You’ll feel better and more prepared when they come back inside.”

  I part my lips to make my next argument, then realize that Jake has given me more sound advice and that I should follow it. I can’t deny the physical and emotional exhaustion that I’ve been ignoring since the moment we found Emily in the barn.

  Before I can even respond to Jake, footsteps approach from the dining room, and Joseph steps inside.

  “And look,” Jake continues with an enthusiastic gesture toward Joseph, “my helper has just arrived anyway.”

  Joseph abruptly stops with a confused expression on his face. Jake circles the kitchen island and grabs him by the arm, yanking him toward the sink. Despite his efforts to hold back a grin at being bossed around like this, Joseph is practically laughing out loud by the time Jake gets him to the counter. Jake’s grip slides down Joseph’s arm until he finds his palm, and they stand there, hand in hand.

  I smile at them, realizing that giving them this time alone together is all the more reason for me to leave the room and lie down for a bit.

  “Just keep an eye on them for me,” I request with a defeated sigh, “and don’t have too much fun doing the dishes.”

  They both turn and grin at my tease, and before I can even make it through the doorway into the hall toward the living room, I hear their playful banter continue.

  30

  My plan to rest on the couch seems foiled now by the couple time taking place in the kitchen, so I reluctantly go upstairs. A sense of unease comes over me when I step inside the bedroom that used to be my place of refuge with Silas. I’m still not entirely comfortable up here by myself. It’s easier to deal with my memories of what recently happened in this room and on the bed when Silas is here with me.

  The sheets and comforter are clean, but I can still see the stains of what Xavier did to me and what I did to him splattered all over the fabric. I close my eyes to work through the nausea beginning to take over my stomach. With a deep breath, I open my eyes and reach for the covers, pulling them back just enough for me to slip beneath them.

  It takes only moments for the anxiety I was feeling to start fading away. I’m much calmer now, though not entirely comfortable covered in layers of bedding in a warm, enclosed room. Despite the disruption to my resting state, I opt to get out of bed to crack open some of the windows.

  I’ve only made it a few steps across the wood floor when I hear the piercing scream that momentarily stops all of my movement. I rush to the back windows and shove one open just in time to hear the residual echo of the girl’s scream fade into the surrounding air.

  Silas’ booming voice follows, yelling out Emily’s name once, twice, three times. It escalates in volume and panic with each attempt.

  I don’t wait around to hear what he yells next. I bolt down the stairs instead and run for the kitchen, coming to a screeching halt when I see Joseph and Jake at the open back door.

  Jake hears my approach and turns toward me, meeting me halfway into the kitchen. He grabs my shoulder and says calmly, “Emily freaked out and ran into the woods. Silas needs us to look for her.”

  My head nods automatically in response, as if I’m perfectly processing the information that Jake is relaying to me, but my mind doesn’t understand a bit of what’s going on. I can’t fathom why Emily would run off screaming in terror like that.

  Joseph has already disappeared through doorway by the time Jake turns back around to join him. When he crosses the threshold and runs into the backyard, I resist the urge to follow and reluctantly take the time to go back to the entryway of the house to slip on my shoes.

  By the time I’m outside and through the hidden gate in the back fence, I already feel exhausted and out of breath. I take just a moment to glance at my surroundings, noting the white pickup truck and Silas’ wood-gathering operation to my right, the path toward the pond straight ahead, and nothing but the thick woods everywhere else.

  I press forward into the tree line. I don’t even know where I’m going at first, just blindly running into the sea of thick brush and trees to search for a scared little girl, but I quickly catch sight of Silas up ahead and step up my pace to catch up with him.

  He turns as I approach him, his expression strained with frustration and exasperation.

  “What did you do?” I demand.

  Silas’ eyes narrow at the accusation in the air between us. He visibly struggles to hold back his genuine response, his body shaking slightly as he takes an intimidating step toward me.

  Just when I think he’s lost to the rage that he struggles to repress inside him, the trembling of his body stops. He closes his eyes for a full second then explains in a low voice, “I opened the back gate for her, and she ran out. Then she started screaming. I didn’t do a damned thing to her.”

  My eyes immediately dart away from Silas, fueled by the hollowing guilt I feel for jumping to false conclusions. I hate that my mind went there: thinking that he could have yelled at her or hurt her, causing her to flee.

  I tuck away my unresolved emotions over my accusation and focus instead on the pressing matter before us.

  “Where do you want me to look?” I ask before finding the courage to meet Silas’ gaze.

  He maintains his hardened expression, not letting up on me at all. He motions in a direction with his hand and replies, “Go that way, but don’t go too far from me. If Emily has her bearings at all out here, she’ll try to head for the road. Let’s try a quiet approach so that we can hear her.”

  I nod and begin moving in the direction that Silas indicated, keeping my steps light, but quick to minimize the amount of noise that I’m making through the brush. Silas is visible out of the corner of my eye, taking a parallel approach to me, seeming to move just as carefully as I am.

  The farther we get away from the house, the more worried I become. Emily could be anywhere out here, hiding among the trees or in the bushes. Or if she kept running, she could be halfway to the road by now.

  I want nothing more than to scream out her name to force her to come to me, but I know that would only hinder our search efforts. Wherever Emily is, she’s clearly terrified, though I still don’t know what she’s so afraid of.

  When the ground starts the gradual slope downward that I know gets steeper closer to the road, my worry over Emily’s well-being escalates even more. I’m distracted by thoughts of potential broken bones and head injuries from rolling down that steep hill when I hear a sharp yelp echo out among the trees.

  Stopping and turning in that direction, I see Silas’ tall figure stand out above the tops of the bushes in the distance. He’s struggling with something—or someone—and when the last reverberations of the echo are replaced by the familiar piercing scream, the same one I heard before, I know that Emily has been found.

  I race in that direction as quickly as my feet will take me over nature’s obstacles in my way. By the time I make it to Silas, I feel like I can barely breathe. But when I finally break through the brush and see him with Emily fully enveloped within his arms, that doesn’t matter anymore because my rapid inhalations come to a halt anyway. My entire body stops moving.

  The scene feels strangely familiar. It’s like watching the first two weeks of my time with Silas play out in front of me with Emily unknowingly acting out my role. Silas has her back pulled against his chest, enclosing her with his arms. Her brown hair is wild all around her face as she struggles against his hold and kicks her feet in the air since she can’t touch the ground.

  Despite her desperation to escape his grasp, she accomplishes nothing. She is crying and helpless, and when the fiery energy finally drains from her body, she submits to him.

  Just as I did in the weeks after Silas found me.

  Silas’ grip is lighter now as he sets Emily down on her feet and holds her tiny frame against him. I watch with wonder as he whispers comforting words to her while she wails in her defeat. She eventually gives in and embraces him, accepting his support by throwing her arms around his waist as if he’s exactly what she needs at the moment.

  I feel something wet fall down each of my cheeks, tears that I didn’t know I was crying. I don’t even know where these tears are coming from or why I feel this way. I don’t think they are tears of sadness; they feel more like tears of love.

  Silas’ supportive words come to a stop when he looks up to see me. He catches sight of my tears before I can brush them away. I smile and step forward to approach him and Emily before he can make any attempt to move toward me.

  Emily peeks out from the spot where her face has been buried into Silas’ shirt. She sees me, but the smile I’m hoping for at my arrival doesn’t form in her expression.

  “Why are you crying?” she asks me in a whisper.

  A subtle laugh escapes me at the same time that another tear races down my cheek. I don’t bother wiping it away this time.

  “This is similar to how Silas and I met,” I reply to her with probably more honesty than I should. “He found me and Jake in the woods.”

  She immediately turns her face away from me, my words clearly having displeased her. Her next move is to pull away from Silas, but she doesn’t escape his hold.

  “What’s wrong?” I implore while quickly moving to plant myself right where Emily was headed had she freed herself from Silas.

  The defiant struggle that Emily continues to put up to get away from Silas quickly comes to an end. She looks up at me again with terror in her eyes as she asks, “Why is that white truck in your yard outside of the fence?”

  I feel a little disoriented by her question. “The white truck? Silas uses it to haul branches and firewood.”

  Her eyes widen with alarm. “It’s your truck?”

  My lips part, ready for the simple words to come out in response to Emily’s question, but I find myself remaining silent and looking to Silas for guidance instead.

  “It’s our truck now, but it wasn’t always ours,” he responds for me.

  She peers up at him hesitantly. “Someone gave it to you?”

  “We took it,” he answers without hesitation. “The owners didn’t need it anymore.”

  “Who were they?” she asks desperately as she turns within Silas’ hold and grasps his shirt with both hands. “Why didn’t they need it? Where are they now?”

  “They’re dead,” he replies bluntly.

  “Silas,” I scold quietly to remind him who he’s talking to.

  The fear and disgust I expect to see on Emily’s face is nowhere to be found. She’s absolutely beaming up at Silas instead.

  “You killed them?” she squeaks out through the emotion clearly overcoming her. “When?”

  He nods. “A few weeks ago.”

  She smiles and nods in acknowledgement, then suddenly bursts into tears. She throws her arms around Silas and buries her face into his shirt again.

  Silas hesitates to respond before finally putting his arms around her back to give her the support she’s demanding at the moment. He’s the one looking at me for guidance now, clearly unsure what to make Emily’s reaction to the exchange they just had.

  After sucking in a deep breath, Emily pulls back from Silas’ hold, detaching herself from him completely without trying to run away this time. She stares down at her feet for a few moments while she wipes the tears from her eyes.

  She finally looks up at me with a pained expression and says, “I think those men killed my dad.”

  I stare at her blankly, doubting her words because I can hardly fathom what it means if there is truth to them. I look to Silas and see a similar amount of shock on his face.

  “Are you sure?” he asks her in disbelief. “You’re absolutely sure that was their truck?”

  She looks up at him and nods. “I see that truck in my nightmares.”

  “You told Ash your dad got sick,” Silas argues. “How could the men in that truck have killed him?”

  “There were two men,” she begins to explain shakily. “They were busy looking in some buildings near us, so Dad tried to sneak food from their truck. The men saw him, and he tried to run away, but they had rifles.” She wipes away more tears from her cheeks but still manages to continue her story. “They fired a bunch of times, but they only hit Dad once in the shoulder. He said he could fix it. He said it would heal and he would be fine.”

  Understanding floods Silas’ face as Emily crumbles into heavy sobs again. He carefully reaches around Emily’s shoulders and pulls her against him. He closes his eyes briefly with the slightest shake of his head before he reopens them and says, “The wound got infected, and the infection spread. He needed antibiotics.”

  Silas’ words cause a hollow feeling of guilt and sorrow to spread within my chest. We are the reason why Xavier and his men came to this area, so we are partially to blame for why Emily’s dad was shot. We also have the antibiotics that could have saved his life, but we didn’t even get the chance to try to help him.

  If we had encountered Emily and her dad in time, we could have brought them both back to the house, and he might have survived. Emily would still have a father to love her, care for her, and watch her grow and thrive. But instead, she was left with nothing but the nightmares of his demise, nightmares that will haunt her for the rest of her life.

  Emily’s sobs finally start to diminish, but Silas doesn’t let go of her. He continues holding her protectively in his embrace.

  “They won’t hurt any of us ever again,” he calmly speaks to her before looking up at me, letting me know that his words of comfort aren’t only meant for the broken girl in his arms, but for the one who stands before him as well.

  31

  It took some persuading on our walk back to the house, but I managed to get Emily to agree to take a bath. She looked so overwhelmed after she told us why the white truck in our back woods scared her away. She hardly spoke a word at all after that. I thought she could use some time to relax and reset, so I offered to draw a bath for her.

  Despite her resistance to the idea the entire walk back to the house, once she saw the steam rising from the warm water as I filled up the tub, she finally accepted my offer.

  I was happy about it at first, knowing that she’d feel at least somewhat better once she was relaxed and clean. But once I closed the door to let her bathe in privacy, my satisfaction was quickly overcome by the heartbreaking realization that Emily’s pain could never fully be washed away. We had both suffered at the hands of Xavier and his men. My entire family knew that suffering.

  I’m completely lost in these troubling thoughts while sitting on the floor against the wall outside the bathroom. It’s not until I hear the locks turn on the front door that I’m pulled from my vacant stare at the opposing wall.

  The front door swings open, letting in a momentary blast of refreshing air before the door is closed again. I feel Silas’ heavy footsteps reverberating through the floorboards beneath me even before he appears in my line of sight at the entryway. He pauses for a moment when he sees me, clearly concerned to find me sitting alone on the floor like this.

  “Everything okay?” he asks cautiously while making his way closer to me. He crouches down and takes a seat right next to me, leaning his back against the wall and stretching his long legs out in front of him.

  I nod in response to his question, and while it’s not necessarily a completely truthful answer, it’s probably truer now than it has been for a while.

  “We ditched the truck off of the main road,” he says quietly.

  This news triggers a subdued smile on my lips. Emily will be happy to know that the white truck that roars through her nightmares is gone.

  When I turn to see Silas’ hardened expression, I find myself consumed with guilt again. I feel horrible about the accusation I made when I chased him down in the woods. I can hardly keep looking at him while my harsh words replay over and over again in my mind.

  “I’m sorry for what I said earlier,” I tell him in just above a whisper. “I shouldn’t have assumed that you did something to Emily.”

  Silas doesn’t respond. I only hear the subtle deep breath he draws in between his lips, but it’s impossible to tell what caused it: anger, frustration, sadness? I’m too afraid to look him in the eye for clarity.

  “You know how far I’ve come,” he finally says in a low voice. “You know where I started from.”

  I nod slightly, letting him know that I understand. My comprehension of the light, dark, and in between that, all together, make up the man I love is exactly why I fell for him in the first place, despite everything that he did to me when we first met.

  After taking his hand in mine, I rub my thumb lightly across his skin, offering him the silent support that I think he needs right now. He doesn’t pull away; he lets me continue to soothe him through our physical connection. His acceptance of my touch alleviates some of the guilt still weighing me down, the guilt for doubting his ability to properly care for our new guest.

  “I was ready to trust you with a newborn baby,” I whisper before finding the courage to meet Silas’ firm gaze. “I think you’ll do just fine with an eight-year-old.”

  His expression shows the conflict he is experiencing, and his eyes are filled with doubt. The vulnerability he hides so well is suddenly present in his eyes and in the slight parting of his lips. He looks away only briefly before returning his gaze to mine, this time showing me hints of his unrelenting strength and determination.

  He settles in closer to me, but doesn’t say anything. While maintaining the connection of our hands, he encourages me to lean my head against his shoulder with his free hand. He kisses the top of my hair, holding his lips there for a long moment before easing his head back against the wall.

  Despite the discomfort of sitting on the hard floor, I feel perfectly content in this position. It’s the most relaxed I’ve felt in days, maybe even in weeks. It’s just what both of us need until I hear the soft voice calling from the other side of the bathroom door.