Chapter Seventy-Two. Ingrid
CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO
INGRID
When the doors blow open, and the man steps inside, for a moment, I can’t tell who he is—just a figure staggering in, shoulders hunched, a bundle pressed to his chest. Someone gasps. A few of the men get to their feet.
The doors thud shut and the snow settles. He pulls back his hood, and the sight jolts me.
It’s Ben.
Hair plastered to his skin, ice clinging to his brows, his eyes dark and burning. He’s shaved, suddenly younger, heartbreakingly familiar. In his arms, tucked inside his coat, swaddled in blankets, is Mabel.
It’s like a switchboard in my brain lights up all at once, every bulb sparking hot with questions and fears. But through the noise, one signal blares the loudest: relief. Ben is alive. Mabel is okay.
Recognition shudders through the room, a ripple of whispers. “What the hell is he doing here?” someone mutters.
Sheriff Ryan moves toward him. “Ben. How’d you get here? I heard the bridge is iced solid.”
Snow falls from Ben’s boots as he stamps them. “It is. I ditched the truck and came up through the deer trails. Only half a mile—if you know where you’re going.”
I’m thinking of the ambulance that couldn’t get through, of trucks jackknifed along the road, of the snow swallowing the whole world. How long would it take for hypothermia to set in if you got lost in all that blinding white?
“What were you thinking?” I snap.
“Yeah.” A big, burly man steps forward, mistaking my anxiety for anger. “You’ve got some nerve coming up here.” His hands are in fists by his sides.
Ben stares back at him, jaw clenched. Then he unzips his jacket, shifting Mabel higher on his chest. “I couldn’t keep her in that trailer overnight. No power, no heat. It was colder inside than out. I had to get her somewhere safe.”
Melanie rushes forward, arms outstretched, maternal instinct overriding judgment. “Here, let me get her into something dry and wrap her up warm. You must be half frozen yourself. We’ve got some hot coffee.”
She scoops Mabel into her arms, immediately moving into a gentle sway.
Ben fumbles with the diaper bag on his back, handing it over like a peace offering. “Thanks.”
From the corner of my eye, I notice motion in the hallway and turn to see Mom and Dad rejoining the group. Dad has hold of Mom’s elbow, his face stormed over as he looks at Ben.
Melanie scurries off somewhere with the baby.
Another man pipes up. “What about your daddy, Ben? You just left him to freeze in that trailer park.”
“That’s the other reason I’m here,” Ben says. “Dad’s missing.”
The crowd stirs all at once. My eyes go to the glass, to the clots of snow. The man Sabrina swore she saw at the window. The shadow I caught moving at the edge of the woods.
“What do you mean?” Sheriff Ryan steps between Ben and the men, their nerves already strung too tight, itching for a fight.
“He took off somewhere. He was mad as hell about those warrants you served, Sheriff, and drunk enough to make it worse. I don’t know what he was planning.”
“When did he leave?”
Ben shakes his head. “Not sure. Could’ve been last night. I only realized he was gone when the snow came in—went to check on him, and the trailer was empty.”
Somewhere close, two women bend their heads together, whispering fast. I can’t catch much, but one name slices through: “Cat.”
Ben looks past the sheriff, his eyes finding mine. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.” My knees feel unsteady, a thread pulled loose inside me. Then he adds, “Dad took his shotgun with him.”
And the room explodes in panic.