Page 73 of Dark Night of the Soul

“Don’t be.”

She pressed her free hand to her forehead, eyes squeezed shut. The headache. Whatever they’d done to her, it came with a price, and she was fighting it.

Her gaze drifted to her hand on mine. She dragged in another breath, released it, as if trying to center herself. Then relaxed her grip but didn’t let go.

“It’s never going to stop, is it?” she asked. “The nightmares.”

I didn’t know the answer to that.

She let go, placed her hand in her lap, and focused on the road ahead.

“Why are you still here?”

I blinked. “What do you mean?”

“You could have left me behind.”

“I wouldn’t.”

“You should have,” she said. “I’m damaged.”

Something cinched hard in my chest.

“You may be damaged,” I said, “but you’re mine.”

She didn’t respond. She turned her face toward the window. Watched the world flash by. Her shoulders sagged.

Relief.

We drove the rest of the way in silence.

We arrived at a cabin so far off the beaten path and so deep in the woods, no one would find it unless they knew where to look.

Silas’s plan.

I parked, and we both stared at the small, nondescript building that looked like it had risen from the forest floor into existence. Rough-hewn log walls. Windows on either side of a wrap-around porch. One stone chimney rising from the roof.

“Well, this is quaint,” she said. “How long will we be here?”

“As long as it takes.”

Whatever that meant. Long enough for them to stop hunting us? Long enough for her to recover? Long enough to figure out the next move?

She nodded and pushed open the door, stepping out into the late morning air.

I followed her up the steps. She moved aside.

“Key?” she asked, glancing around as if it would announce itself.

Silas hadn’t said. I checked the door frame, the window frames. Nothing. No welcome mat to hide it under. No obvious rock.

“Is it unlocked?” she suggested. “I mean, it’s not like we’re in a high-traffic area.”

I stopped searching and looked at her. She was focused on the front door, then her gaze shifted to me. She shrugged.

Worth a shot.

I reached for the knob, twisted, and pushed. It opened.