Chapter 22
Hannah
The clock on the mantel ticks steadily through the quiet.
Outside, darkness has swallowed the mountains. Every now and then, the wind rustles through the pines.
I glance toward the windows for what must be the hundredth time.
Still no sign of them. No movement between the trees, no bear eyes glowing in the darkness.
Alexandria suppresses a yawn beside me.
“You should go to bed. You must be exhausted.”
“I am.” She glances toward the windows. “But I don’t think I could sleep until Gunnar’s back.”
I understand that immediately.
Her hand moves absently over the gentle curve of her stomach, and I find myself watching it.
“I was just wondering what it’s like,” I say. “Being pregnant.”
She smiles. “Strange.”
“In a good way?”
“The best way. Most of the time I don’t even think about it. Then he’ll move…” She smiles to herself. “And I remember there’s a little bear cub in there.”
I shake my head. “I still can’t quite get my head around any of this.”
“Neither could I.”
“Really?”
“The first time they all shifted, I thought I’d completely lost my mind.”
“And now you’re having a bear cub.”
She laughs. “I know.”
“Can you feel him now?”
She pauses, concentrating.
“No. He’s asleep, I think.”
“Do you know if he’ll be able to shift when he’s born?”
“I hope not!” She chuckles. “For pure shifters, it doesn’t start until they’re a few years old.”
I picture a toddler suddenly turning into a bear cub. “That’s going to be adorable.”
“I know.” She smiles. “And slightly terrifying.”
I smile.
Alexandria yawns again. “This is ridiculous. If I stay here much longer, I’m going to fall asleep on the sofa.”
“You should go.”
“You’ll be all right?”
“Of course.”
“If the boys get back, wake me right away. Even if Gunnar tells you not to.”
“I will.”
She squeezes my shoulder as she passes.
“Goodnight, Hannah.”
“Goodnight.”
I listen as her footsteps disappear down the hallway and a bedroom door closes.
The lodge is quiet again. I stare out at the darkness beyond the windows. There’s still no sign of them.
Then I carry our mugs into the kitchen and pour the untouched coffee down the sink. The dishwasher is already half full, so I slot them inside, wipe a few stray drops from the worktop and straighten the tea towel over the oven door.
The kitchen was spotless before I started. I’m just looking for something to do. Anything except think. I wander back into the living room. He’s fine, I tell myself. He promised he’d come back.
My phone is lying where I left it on the coffee table. I know I shouldn’t pick it up. The last thing I need is more bad news. I last almost a full minute.
The moment I unlock the screen, Bennett’s photograph appears.
Two corrections officers are bundling him into the back of a prison transport van. His wrists are shackled in front of him, his shoulders stooped beneath the orange jumpsuit. He looks exhausted. His gray hair is disheveled, his face pale and drawn, with dark shadows beneath his eyes.
My stomach twists. I’ve never seen Professor Bennett wear anything except tweed jackets, wool jumpers and slightly frayed shirts with the sleeves rolled up. Seeing him like this feels grotesque. Like somebody has taken the man I know and dropped him into the wrong life.
I tap the headline.
PROFESSOR REMANDED IN CUSTODY AS SEARCH FOR MISSING WOMAN CONTINUES
My heart begins to pound.
Professor Carson Bennett, 58, appeared before Cedar Falls District Court this afternoon charged with the kidnapping of former student Hannah Hayes.
I keep reading.
Miss Hayes, twenty-four, remains missing five days after disappearing from her home. Prosecutors allege Professor Bennett groomed Miss Hayes over a prolonged period before abducting her and transporting her to an unknown location.
My fingers tighten around the phone.
Investigators believe Miss Hayes may still be being held against her will. During today’s hearing, prosecutors argued Professor Bennett has refused to disclose her whereabouts despite repeated questioning by detectives.
I read the paragraph again. That’s what they’re saying—that Bennett knows exactly where I am. That he’s choosing not to tell them.
I scroll lower.
A spokesperson for Ashbury University confirmed Professor Bennett has been suspended with immediate effect pending the outcome of the criminal proceedings.
Suspended. Already.
Further down, there’s a still from my father’s press conference, his face lined with grief as he pleads for the safe return of his daughter.
The caption beneath reads:
‘POLICE FEAR HANNAH HAYES’S LIFE MAY BE IN IMMINENT DANGER.’
I lower the phone into my lap.
Every hour they fail to find me is another hour Bennett looks like the man refusing to tell them where he’s hidden me.
He’s sitting in a cell because he tried to help me, and now Torin and his family are being dragged into it too.
Torin should be recovering from his injuries, but he’s out patrolling the forest with Gunnar and Orson because the search could bring deputies straight to the lodge.
Alexandria is sleeping down the hall while Gunnar risks exposing a secret his family has protected for generations.
None of them had anything to do with my father until they met me, and as long as I’m missing, this is only going to get worse. Bennett stays in custody, the search keeps spreading and my father keeps looking for new ways to force me out.
Because that’s what he’s doing. He doesn’t care about Bennett, or whether the allegations against him make any sense. Bennett is useful because I care about him. Arresting him gives my father another way to put pressure on me.
And that means I still have something he wants.
Finding me isn’t enough. My father has spent five days telling everyone that I’m vulnerable and confused, that someone else is responsible for my disappearance.
He doesn’t want deputies dragging me out of the mountains while I tell every reporter who’ll listen exactly why I ran away.
He wants me to come home willingly and confirm the story he’s already told them.
And that gives me something to bargain with.
If I walk into the sheriff’s department, there’ll be a dozen people watching. They’ll see that I’m alive, that I’m thinking clearly and that I came back by myself. Dad can’t simply make me disappear after that—not without everyone asking questions.
More importantly, he needs my cooperation. He needs me standing beside him, telling the world he was right.
I could give him that. I could tell everyone I left because I was frightened and confused. I could stop making allegations against him and let him play the gracious father welcoming his troubled daughter home. In return, he drops the case against Bennett.
It would mean giving him almost everything he wants, and there’s no guarantee he’d keep his word.
He could agree to anything and turn on me the second he had me back.
But I don’t have to go home first. I can make Bennett’s freedom the condition of my cooperation and see what my father is willing to offer.
It’s a gamble, but so is staying here. Every day I remain missing is another day Bennett sits in custody and another day the search moves closer to the lodge. Torin and his family will keep putting themselves at risk to protect me, because that’s who they are.
Because that’s who he is.
The thought of leaving Torin is almost enough to make the whole plan collapse. I’ve known him for only a few days, and somehow, I already know exactly what it will feel like to walk away from him.
“I love you,” I whisper into the empty room.
The words don’t surprise me. They simply hurt, because loving him doesn’t change what I have to do.
I need to go back.
I make my way quietly down the hallway, listening for movement from Alexandria’s room. All is quiet.
In my room, I change into my own clothes and pack my phone, charger and purse. I fold Alexandria’s borrowed clothes and leave them on the bed, then zip my backpack closed.
I can’t just disappear without saying anything. There’s a notepad and pen on the little desk beneath the window. I sit down, but for a while I can’t think what to write.
There are too many things I want to say.
Thank you.
I’m sorry.
I love you.
I can’t write the last one.
In the end, I write:
Torin,
I’m so sorry. Please don’t look for me.
Thank you for showing me what it feels like to be safe.
Hannah
I read it once, fold the page in half and slip it into my pocket.
Torin’s bedroom is on my way to the front door. I stop outside it and take out the note.
He’ll come back expecting to find me here.
For a moment, I picture him walking through the door, tired and muddy after hours in the forest. If I wait long enough, I could put my arms around him and forget this whole plan.
I push the note beneath his door before I can change my mind.
The lodge is silent. I listen as I pass Alexandria’s room, but there’s no movement inside.
At the front door, I hesitate with my hand on the handle.
I love Torin.
Leaving him is the last thing I want to do.
But Bennett is sitting in a cell, and every hour I stay here makes things worse.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
Then I ease the door open and slip out into the cool mountain night.