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She saw her then, a woman’s face she just barely recognized. Like some long-absent memory.
Sad, guilt-riddled eyes peered down at her.
She hadn’t thought about that day much. Hadn’t thought of the way her mother's arms wrapped around her. Hadn’t thoughtof the way her dark hair swayed against her back as she walked away.
She realized only then that her mother had looked like her in a way. And maybe that’s why the anger in her father’s eyes had grown so deeply over the years. Maybe it was because when he looked at her, he saw someone else there instead.
And then the image of her mother drifted off, reshaping into her father once more.
But it wasn’t childhood memories this time.
It was the same ones that haunted her every night.
The blinding rage in his eyes as he screamed at her. The way the muscles in his jaw twisted with fury, then disgust, when she couldn’t pull the trigger.
But this time, as she watched, she didn’t feel the same fear she remembered having in those moments.
She didn’t flinch away from him as he stepped toward her, spit flying from his feral mouth.
She just watched, a new calm replacing the terror she’d always felt in those last moments.
And maybe that’s what death really was. One final gift of peace after a lifetime of torment.
Chapter forty-eight
“Maddie!” her father’s rushed voice called out.
“Dad?” she called back, keeping Saff tucked tightly against her as she turned.
A second later, his rough hands collided with her shoulders, pulling her into a bone-crushing hug.
“Dad,” she stuttered, the crying overtaking her once again. “She’s—she’s hurt. We need to get her—“ Her jaw shook so hard she could barely get the rest of the words out. “She needs help—you have to help her.”
“Josh!” he called out.
Then, seconds later, she felt Saff’s body being pulled away.
She lurched forward, fighting against whatever was taking her.
“Honey,” her dad started, his voice softening. “It’s okay. Josh will carry her.”
It took everything in her to release the grip, as her hands refused to thaw their icy hold.
“You need to—you need to keep pressure on the bleeding,” she choked out through a sob.
“What happened?” her father asked, quickly hauling her to her feet. She stumbled a step,the back of her head throbbing as a wave of dizziness washed over her. But before she could answer, he tugged her forward.
“Here,” he said, pushing the handle of her cane into her palm.
“We—“ she stuttered, barely registering the steps her sore legs wobbled through. “We were attacked. Dad,” she whimpered, the tears coming again. “It didn’t work—the radio—it—“ She stumbled forward, finally hearing her mother’s voice as her dad helped her.
She could feel her mom on his other side, hand gripping her arm securely even as she remained quiet.
“The radio didn’t work,” she continued. “And I—I tried the flare, but—“
“It’s okay,” her dad said, guiding them forward with quick steps. “We shot off a flare in the harbor when you guys didn’t show up. We thought something was wrong, so we left to look for you.”
He paused, and she felt him shift her mother’s arm on his shoulder before continuing.
