The contact broke open Greta’s chest. Fifteen years of searching, of hoping, of grieving—all of it crashed into her at once. Tears spilled down her cheeks, but she kept her voice steady through sheer force of will.
“You’re safe now. I promise. No one will ever hurt you again.”
Alice’s eyes filled with tears that mirrored Greta’s. Her mouth moved, forming words that made no sound. Frustration crossed her face, and she pressed her free hand to her throat again.
“Hey.” She squeezed her sister’s hand gently. “It’s okay. We’ll figure it out. We’ve got all the time in the world now.”
Alice returned the squeeze with surprising strength. Her lips moved again, and this time Greta recognized the shape of them forming her name.
“I’m here. I’m right here.”
Alice took a step forward, then another, her legs unsteady beneath her. Then she was moving, crossing those final inches between them, and collapsing into Greta’s arms.
The impact knocked Greta back a step, but she caught her sister’s weight easily and wrapped her arms around the fragile frame. Alice buried her face against Greta’s shoulder, her body shaking with silent sobs. Greta held her tight, one hand cradling the back of her head, the other splayed across her shoulder blades.
“I’ve got you,” Greta murmured into her sister’s hair. “I’ve got you.”
She didn’t know how long she stood there holding her sister. Long enough for the cold to settle into her bones. Long enough for Bear to come down off the porch and stand at her back, not touching her, just there.
She lifted her eyes over Alice’s shoulder and found Evander across the yard. “Thank you,” she mouthed.
He nodded and turned away, already walking toward the trees with Tilly at his heel.
He didn’t look back.
Alice’s body suddenly went rigid against her, drawing her attention back.
Greta drew away slightly and followed Alice’s wide-eyed gaze to Bear. “It’s okay. That’s Bear. He’s mine.”
He’s mine.The words came out before she’d thought them through, but… yeah, they were true.
They had been true for longer than she’d let herself admit.
Alice’s eyes bugged, and she made a big gesture with her hands.
Greta laughed and swiped at the tears still streaking down her face. “I know,” she said. “I know he’s massive.”
Alice made the gesture again. Bigger this time. Both hands. And it was the most Alice thing Greta had seen in fifteen years. Since that last morning when Greta had rolled her eyes at her sister’s dramatics over the breakfast table, and Alice had flicked a piece of toast at her face.
Her sister was in there.
Alice was still in there.
thirty-six
“The fucker hasn’t said a word.”
Greta tightened her hands around the coffee mug and glanced up at the second-floor window where the curtains were still drawn. Fourteen days since Alice had come home, and her sister was still sleeping for large chunks of the day.It was good for her, and for Atlas, who cuddled beside her in the bed and also needed the healing sleep.
But Greta still worried.
The morning air carried the scent of pine and distant wood smoke. A horse whickered from the barn where Bear and Logan had been since five, mucking stalls. The porch railing was cold under her elbows, the weathered wood smooth from years of hands resting on it.
She looked back at Naomi. “Not a thing?”
“He’s playing games. He wants attention.” She blew out a breath that ruffled her black hair. “The state troopers are certain there are others besides Alice and the bones we found.”
“Any luck identifying them?”
