Chapter 58
Chapter
Fifty-Eight
Two hours passed before the doctors cleared the boy to speak with anyone.
Nora’s family remained in a consultation room down the hall. They wanted answers, but Dr. Rutherford had recommended limiting the number of people around the boy. Nora, Austin, and Prine were already more than enough.
Nora fought a tremble of nerves as she stepped into his room.
Daylight filled the space, exposing every bruise on the boy’s face. He sat propped against the pillows with his injured wrist secured in a brace and an untouched breakfast tray beside him.
Austin took the chair near the window. Nora sat closer to the bed while Prine and Dr. Rutherford positioned themselves where he could see them without feeling surrounded.
The agent outside the door and the recorder on the table made it clear this wasn’t an ordinary conversation.
Dr. Rutherford explained why the interview was being recorded and reminded the boy that he could request a break at any time. After he agreed, Prine turned on the recorder.
“I understand you don’t remember your real name,” she started. “Is that correct?”
He nodded. “That’s right. I can’t remember.”
“What would you like us to call you?” she asked.
He stared at his hands. “I don’t know.”
“Josiah?”
“No.” His jaw tightened. “Definitely not Josiah.”
“Okay, that’s fine,” Rutherford said. “Do you remember anything that happened to you? Were you kidnapped?”
Nora held her breath as she waited for his answer.
“No, I don’t remember anything. I think I was taken. When I was young.”
“Do you remember your family?”
He shook his head. “No, not really.”
“How did you escape?”
“We were working outside, and one of the men looked away. So I started running. I kept running. I thought they’d catch me. They didn’t.”
“How did you find the Lovelesses’ house?”
“Christian told me where it was. The name of the street. He described it. I kept walking until I found it. It was . . . I mean, I walked for a long time. I even slept in the woods. It’s all a blur really.”
Dr. Rutherford allowed the silence to settle before asking, “I was going to ask other questions first. But since you mentioned Christian, what can you tell us about him?”
Nora’s heart thrummed in her ears.
The boy looked at Nora. “He was my friend. Ever since they put him in the room with me.” A faint smile touched his mouth. “He was scared, but he kept asking questions. Where we were. How many people were there. He never stopped trying to figure out how to leave.”
Her pulse raced at his words. That sounded like Christian.
“He talked about you.” The boy glanced at Nora. “Your whole family. Your mother’s cinnamon rolls. The hymns she sang in the kitchen. The concerts you used to do.”
Nora’s lungs tightened until she could hardly breathe.
“He said Wren always tries to keep everyone from fighting. Marlowe was the fun sister. Nora, you try to fix everything, even when no one asks you to.”
A tear slipped down Nora’s cheek. “That definitely sounds like Christian.”
“What can you tell us about where you were kept?” Prine asked. “Do you remember much?”
“I . . . I don’t know.” Tension pulled across his features.
“You said you couldn’t remember any of it,” Nora reminded him. “Was that true?”
His fingers tightened around the blanket. “I remember more than I told you but less than you think.”
They all waited for him to continue.
“I remember the rules. The rooms. The work. I remember Christian. But before that . . .” He pressed a hand to his forehead. “There’s almost nothing. Some things only come back when I hear a song or somebody says certain words.”
“Why did you tell us you couldn’t remember?” Nora asked.
Shame moved across his face. “Because not remembering was safer than refusing to answer.”
Nora bit down. She supposed that made sense. But it didn’t make his answer any easier to swallow.
“How many boys were kept where you were?” Prine asked.
“It changed. Maybe up to ten at times.”
“So kids came and went?”
“That’s right.”
“What else can you tell us?”
The boy’s mouth tightened. “Christian was always their favorite.”
“Favorite?” Nora blinked in confusion.
“The man in charge said Christian was important. That he’d been chosen before any of us.”
“Chosen for what?” Nora asked.
“I don’t know.” His gaze dropped to the blanket. “I escaped before I could find out.”
The clock above the door read a quarter past one. Gray light pressed against the hospital window, and someone had swapped the boy’s breakfast tray for a lunch tray.
Nora kept her eyes on the boy. If she looked at Austin, she might fall apart. He sat by the window at the edge of her vision, his hands locked between his knees.
“Do you know anything about the Renshaws?” Prine asked, clearly remembering the notes Austin’s father left behind.
The boy’s fingers tightened around the blanket. “I heard Cross mention them before I escaped. He said something was supposed to happen when they came to Fog Lake.”
Prine leaned forward. “What was supposed to happen?”
“I don’t know. He stopped talking when he realized I could hear him.”
Nineteen days until Homecoming. Nora counted them before she could stop herself. What was so special about that event?
Part of her didn’t want to know.
One question still remained—one she wasn’t sure she wanted answered.
“One more thing.” Nora looked at the boy. “The night I fell down the stairs. Were you behind me?”
He lowered his gaze. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“Then what happened?”
He rubbed his thumb along the edge of the blanket. “I kept thinking Cross might be outside—or already inside the house. When I heard you leave your room, I followed you into the hallway.”
Nora remembered the floorboard creaking behind her. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I saw you lose your balance. I reached for the back of your shirt to steady you, but I missed. My hand hit your back instead.” His gaze dropped. “I think I made you fall faster.”
Between her shoulder blades.
Exactly where Nora had felt the pressure. Her ribs still ached where the stairs had caught them.
“You told me the fall woke you,” she said.
“I panicked. You were already watching me like you didn’t trust me. I thought if you believed I’d pushed you, you’d call the police.” His eyes filled with shame. “And I knew Cross had a badge.”
Nora absorbed the explanation. He’d lied again—but not because he had wanted her hurt. He had been afraid that telling the truth would place him back in the hands of the people he had escaped.
“You should have told me,” she said.
“I know.”
She believed his regret. Forgiving the lie would still take time, but the fear that he had deliberately tried to hurt her finally loosened its grip.
Dr. Rutherford glanced at the clock. “That’s enough for today.”
Prine stopped the recorder.
The boy looked toward the agent outside his door. “Am I going to jail?”
“When the doctors release you, you’ll be placed in protective custody while we determine your identity and understand what you were forced to do,” Prine said.
“Can I go back with Nora?”
The question settled heavily over the room. Nora’s heart twisted. Part of her wanted to protect this boy. But the other part remembered his betrayal.
What was the right thing to do here? And she didn’t have only herself to think about. She also had her family.
“Cross’s associates know where the Loveless family lives,” Prine said. “Until we understand the threat, returning there wouldn’t be safe for you or them.”
His gaze dropped. “They won’t want me there anyway.”
Nora reached for his uninjured hand. “What you did hurt us. We’re not going to pretend it didn’t. Rebuilding trust will take time.”
His fingers remained limp beneath hers.
“But you were a child when you were taken,” she continued. “God knows who you are, even if you don’t. And we aren’t going to abandon you while you figure it out.”
He looked at her, moisture filling his gaze. “Even after everything I did?”
“We’re going to need time.” Nora closed her fingers around his. “That isn’t the same as leaving.”
Slowly, his hand tightened around hers.