Page 89 of Trapped Truth

“Come here, love.”

Despite our surroundings, I accept Warner’s quick, bone-crunching hug. No matter if it’s unprofessional. We’ve skipped from disaster to disaster, and my body has barely recovered from the seizure that chose the worst possible moment to hit.

“Do you want to go speak to Gracie now?” He surrenders me. “We can handle their belongings.”

“Not particularly, but I need to.”

“We need any information she can give us, Em. Names, locations, anything. Sabre hasn’t pushed so far, giving her time to acclimatise and heal. But I’m afraid the time for patience has passed.”

“I know.” A slow, tension-filled gust exits my lungs. “Leave it to me.”

Blaine absently eyes the house behind us. “Think about what you can offer to get her onside. She wants to help, but all humans need sufficient motivation.”

“Like what?”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something, sweetheart.”

“You have a lot of faith in me,” I observe.

He flashes a smirk in my direction. “I always do.”

They move to unload the Livingstone’s meagre belongings from the car, keeping an eye out for anything suspicious. Spine steeled, I make my feet respond, carrying me inside the safe house to face the music.

“Where is Gracie?” I ask Geoff.

He lingers in the empty kitchen, appearing mildly shellshocked by it all. “Checking out her bedroom, I believe.”

“Thanks.”

“Can you help her?”

Freezing, I cast him a wary glance. “What?”

Geoff turns to the window, verifying that his wife is still in the garden inspecting the empty flower beds. Then he moves closer, dropping his voice low. Up close, the severe bags under his eyes look almost painful in their size and weight.

“She’s struggling, Ember. Barely sleeps. Doesn’t eat. The walls shake from how loud she screams out in her sleep at night. I’m doing everything I can, but she refuses to talk to me.”

“Talking about it isn’t always easy. You need to be patient.”

“Or talking about it with her dad isn’t an option.” His frown deepens, overcome with visible sadness. “You know what it was like, the things she might’ve seen.”

Throat thickening, I summon the courage to nod.

“Can you get through to her?”

“That’s the plan, sir.”

“Thank you for trying… And for bringing her home to us.”

“I’m sorry it took us this long.”

“No, I won’t accept that.” He shakes his head from side to side. “We’re grateful to have our daughter home, no matter how long it took. You gave that to us.”

Standing in an empty house far from everything they know and love, I’m not convinced I deserve the thanks. A quick nod feels like the safest option before fleeing to climb the staircase.

“Gracie?” I call out.

“In here, first door on the left.”