Chapter 26
Ellie and Joshfell into a routine. Days spent working side by side—whether online or in the garden—nights spent playing games, talking about the world, and falling into bed together.
Ellie drove up to London to work in her office for a couple of hours twice a week as usual. But she didn’t stay overnight, and she was always back before Josh faded—even if he was pale and cold, and usually passed out on the bed when she found him.
She sent several texts to Victoria. The first offered to talk, the second promised her support, and after that she sent funny anecdotes she thought her friend would like. Although she never got a reply.
The more Ellie thought about what Vic had said—and done—the more certain she was that Warren was the cause of Victoria’s strange behavior. She spent time reading up on coercive control and how confused and disoriented victims could become. And Ellie wanted Vic to know she wasn’t alone. That despite everything, Ellie was on her side.
Every day, she spent some time going through traffic cam footage and updating her requests for accident witnesses. Although she never found anything. And eventually she reached out to a private security company and booked in a meeting with one of their investigators for the next time she was in London.
She tried calling all the avian centers in Scotland, but they refused to hand out employee information—past or present—and became even less helpful when she didn’t know Josh’s surname. And a thorough search of online staff profiles came up with nothing.
Josh spent his days searching through veterinary services and wildlife conservation websites for anything he felt was familiar, although that was unsuccessful too.
He still brooded on her deck, but he also laughed more every day. He brought her snacks and sat with her while she drank her morning coffee. He played her game and seemed to really love it. And with every touch, every moment when he wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled into her neck, he took more of her heart.
And although she worked hard, for the first time in her life she also rested. Standing up for herself, making the choice to stick to her beliefs, had settled something inside her. She sat in the sun with her feet in Josh’s lap. She took long walks. She even went down to the beach alone and swam in the cold sea, shivering and swearing, but emerging full of energy and ideas.
It had been another full day and Ellie was sitting alone in her office, wrapping up her last e-mail when she noticed a new message from an unknown sender. Anything suspicious was immediately flagged by her new security system, but this hadn’t been weeded out—even with the vague subject line of “I might be able to help.”
She opened it warily to find it was someone responding to a request she’d left on a message board several days before. He apologized for his slow response; his wife had given birth to their first baby, and he’d only just started coming back to his social media. He’d already handed his dashcam video of her accident to the police—who hadn’t been able to get anything useful from it—but he attached the video for her anyway, in case it could help.
She called over her shoulder, hoping Josh was in the house and would hear her, and then, not expecting much, she clicked it open and pressed Play.
At first it was fairly boring. The unremarkable road disappeared beneath the car, mumbled conversation from the passengers played in the background, trees flashed past on either side. And then they followed a steep curve before the road straightened, and Ellie knew exactly where she was.
She paused the video as Josh came into her office. He took one glance at the frozen image on the screen—the grainy view of the forested road, time and date stamped on the bottom—and sank onto the seat beside her, one hand coming to settle on her thigh. “Is this from your accident?” he asked.
“I think so.” She couldn’t keep the tremble out of her voice. The reality of seeing the road sliding away in front of her was worse than she’d expected. She’d lived through it once. She didn’t want to see it again.
“Do you want me to look at it for you?” Josh asked. “You can go make a cup of tea and I’ll tell you if I see anything that might be helpful.”
She threaded her fingers through his, gripping them tightly. “It’s okay. I think I need to see it. Just… can you stay with me?”
He shuffled his chair closer, pressing his body against hers. “Of course. I’m here. Whatever you need.”
His expression was stoic, as always, but she knew him well enough now to see the signs of stress: the tightness around his eyes, the tension in his jaw. But he hadn’t hesitated to offer to take the load entirely on himself.
She leaned a little closer into him and clicked Play. The video restarted. Here were the woods. Here the road grew steeper. And any moment?—
Josh’s grip on her hand tightened as they approached a group of cyclists flying down the narrow road, helmets gleaming, jerseys in an array of bright colors.
Their car fell back, making space. The cyclists were in a tight, dense group, obscuring the front, but Ellie knew this road. She knew this curve. And she knew this was where she’d pulled ahead.
Beside her, Josh was utterly still. She glanced at him, concerned about how pale he was, how rigid his muscles were.
But then she heard the hooting, and her attention flew back to the screen. The people in their car were swearing at a big, navy blue SUV passing them dangerously close on the narrow road.
A car appeared from the other direction, and the driver with the dashcam braked hard, letting the SUV swerve in at the last moment. The oncoming vehicle roared past them with a shouted curse. But the SUV—now between them and the cyclists—didn’t slow down. Within a second, he was moving back out, moving beside the bikes.
Blood thundered in Ellie’s ears. Her body was too hot, her hands too cold. Pins and needles stabbed up her back. Beside her, Josh seemed to be having his own crisis. His eyes were too wide, his breaths too shallow, his hand gripped hers tight enough to hurt.
They leaned together, seeking safety, seeking comfort, as if they both knew exactly what was coming.
And then the SUV jerked hard to the side. Was it a response to something on the road? An accident?
Or was it deliberate? Intentional?
A man wearing dark glasses and a cap pulled low drove the SUV. And he looked right at her.
God. She wanted to be sick. She hunched over her belly as a cyclist went down: her. And then, almost in slow motion, the entire pack of cyclists crashed into each other. Propelled into a vicious tangle of metal and limbs and pain.
The SUV hovered for a moment—checking he’d got her?—and then took off. The dashcam driver pulled over, someone’s voice babbled; high-pitched and panicked, calling 999. People shouted and groaned. But Ellie hardly heard it.
Their car was parked at an angle, the dashcam perfectly positioned to show her. Her long-sleeved purple cycling jersey was torn and covered in mud. Her biking tights were shredded and soaked with blood.
She was on her front, reaching out to the nearest cyclist. His hair was matted with blood. His helmet had torn off in the crash.
She pulled herself closer, put out her hand, and just for a moment, their eyes met. And she remembered. Clear blue eyes, bracketed by tiny lines, intense and focused utterly on her.
Josh.
Her lips moved, mouthing the words, even as she saw them move on the screen. “Don’t leave me.”
His eyes fluttered closed on the recording, and she was filled with the same horror as on that awful day; the terror that he would die there on that broken road.
She watched herself take his hand. And she remembered begging. “Stay. Please. God. Please stay.”