Page 127 of Trapped Truth

CHAPTER 21

EMBER

FEAR IN GOD - AVERY ANNA & SAM BARBER

“I’m sorry, Ember. I’ll keep trying, I promise. It’s all so blurred.”

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I stare out at the distant twinkle of London’s vast expanse. It looks so small and insignificant from the rooftop. Almost out of reach. If only our problems were that small too.

“Hey, it’s okay. I know you’re trying your best, hun.”

Gracie sniffles loudly down the phone line. “I wish I could remember more.”

“Be patient with yourself. Memories are buried for a reason.”

“When will you come see me again?”

Pangs of guilt sear my chest. “Soon, I promise. Things are a little complicated right now, so we’re having to lay low for a while.”

“I heard about the explosion.” Her whisper is a trembling fault line.

“Don’t watch the news, Gracie. Everything you hear on the airwaves is just gossip and speculation. When I have an update, I’ll call you directly.”

“So it wasn’t a terrorist attack?”

“No, our home was targeted.”

I turn to face the sound of the rooftop door creaking open, rusted metal scraping on groaning hinges. Axel halts in the doorway, waving for me to follow him inside the distillery.

I should’ve known I couldn’t hide for long up here in the frigid cold.

“Listen, I have to go. I’ll keep in touch, okay?”

“Please be safe, Ember.”

“Trying my best. Stay busy, and call me if you remember anything else.”

We murmur our goodbyes, then the burner phone’s line goes dead. I let the muscles in my arm sag, too tired to plaster on a brave act any longer. Gracie’s locked away from her sisters and her home. This mess is the last thing her family needed to hear about.

“Em?” Axel calling my name forces me back into the present. “You’re needed.”

“What is it? I should call Tom.”

“Warner wants us downstairs. Said it’s urgent.”

“Urgent,” I scoff. “Just like everything else.”

“Come on, dimples.”

The wind chill is biting into my skin anyway, freezing every sliver left bare when Blaine’s leather jacket flaps open. None of us have much in the way of supplies. If we’re to hide here for another night, we’ll need some basic necessities beyond a single toothbrush and some stashed long-life food.

“Any luck with Gracie?” Axel tugs me into his side when I approach.

“No, she’s still drawing a blank. Sabre has recommended a trauma therapist from Richards’s approved list. Convincing her to sit down and work with the woman is another debate, though.”

“Sounds familiar,” he snickers.

“I’ve been going to therapy!”