Chapter
Fifty-Four
Austin watched the vehicle’s last taillight disappear into the fog.
Cross watched it too.
For the first time since Austin entered the clearing, the man’s confidence faltered. Whoever waited across the creek had abandoned him—and Cross knew it.
Prine must have seen the opening too.
“Look at that road, Zander. They left you.”
Cross’s mouth tightened.
“The people who took you when you were seventeen gave you another name and trained you to do their work,” Prine continued. “Whatever they did to you, it wasn’t your choice.”
“They opened my eyes.”
“They held you captive. They conditioned you.”
“You don’t know anything about them.” Cross tightened his arm around Preston. “My family never understood what I could become. The others did.”
“The others used you, Zander,” Prine said.
“No.” Conviction hardened his expression, but something raw flickered beneath it. “They chose me.”
The words settled over the clearing.
The boy they’d been calling Christian lifted his head.
Cross looked at him, and something about his manner changed. His voice lost its edge, becoming quiet and measured.
Familiar.
“You understand, don’t you?” Cross asked. “They chose you too.”
Christian swallowed but didn’t answer.
“No,” Nora said from behind Harris. “They took him too.”
Cross’s attention snapped toward her.
“Nora, stay behind Harris.” Austin kept his tone steady, though every instinct urged him to get her farther from the bridge.
She remained where she was, but she leaned far enough forward to keep Christian in view. “You left those drawings because you wanted us to find you—and Preston.”
Cross tightened his hold on the boy. “Stop talking.”
Nora ignored him.
“Look at me,” she told Christian.
His gaze shifted to hers.
“I know you lied to us. You let us believe you were my brother, and that hurt.” Her voice shook, but she didn’t look away. “But I saw how frightened those hymnal pages made you. I don’t believe you came to hurt us. I think you were trying to get away.”
Christian’s face tightened as though her words stung.