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Cole
Cole moves about the kitchen searching for something quick to eat, but nothing looks appetizing. Abigail joins him, holding a newspaper which she drops on the counter in front of him. Cole leans forward and reads the headlines, seeing the news about The American has made the front page. “One of America’s most wanted fugitives captured.”
“The question is, will her father be next?” Abigail sets a sandwich down in front of him. “You need to eat more than an apple. I can make myself another one. Where’s Savi? I haven’t seen much of her lately.”
“You don’t hear that?” Mark says as he snatches the sandwich off the plate and takes three big bites. Cole steps out into the living room, hearing the piano and Savannah’s deep, soulful voice. He turns to look at Mark in disbelief. “Yeah, for like ten minutes now. Girl has some mad talent.”
Before he gets a chance to hear much more, the song ends. The sound of the piano cover closing has Cole and Abigail slipping back into the kitchen, pretending to be busy as Savannah climbs the stairs and enters the room. She blushes slightly when she sees them. He can tell she thought she was alone in this part of the house.
“Hey, Savi,” Abigail says, standing in front of the fridge. “You thirsty? I just made some lemonade.”
She nods and comes over to the island, standing next to Cole. He leans over and gives her a kiss on the cheek, but her body turns slightly, almost as though she doesn’t want it. “Are you all right?” Her body language screamsno, but she nods.
“Really, Savi?” Mark says through a mouthful of cookie. “You’re gonna lie to Logan?” he sputters, sending crumbs into the air. “You seem to forget what we do for a living. Besides, the way you played and sang that song nearly brought me to my knees in tears.”
“Mark!” Abigail scowls, making Savannah gasp. “Filter, my son,” she scolds him.
“What?” He shrugs. “It was a compliment.”
Savannah
I shift while watching him scribble on his tablet. Snow is falling outside the window behind him, brightening up all the scruffy areas, softening the landscape in a winter wonderland again. “Tell me, Savannah, how does it feel to be back?” Dr. Roberts asks as we sip our coffee in our usual meeting room next to Cole’s office. I was the one who asked him to come this morning. Something feels off, and I want to get to the bottom of it.
“It feels great…good, I mean. It’s a relief to be back, of course.”
“But…” He pulls his glasses down on his nose, knowing there’s more.
I shrug, not sure how to put it. “I don’t know. I mean, I’ve been back here for a week now. I’m happy. I’m safe. I’m so grateful to the guys…I just thought it would feel a little different.”
“How different?”
I shift again and tuck my dress a little tighter around my legs, feeling nervous about answering this question, knowing that once I say it out loud, it makes it true. “It feels like it’s not quite where I need to be.”
He nods like he understands me instead of displaying the confusion I expected from him. “Savannah, you were left to look after your mother for the four years she was ill. Weren’t you fourteen when she passed?” I nod miserably. “So, that would have made you ten when you took on a very adult emotional task, correct?” I nod, agreeing. “Okay, then after your mother died, your father began his political climb to the mayor’s office, thrusting you into his world. Suddenly, the press is hounding you, your life is turned upside down, and you start to run into problems, so you put your life on hold once again for your parents. A few years later, you are kidnapped and held for seven terrible months.” I clear my throat uncomfortably and start to say something, but he holds up his hand and continues. “Finally, you are rescued and brought here. Then,” he pauses with his finger in the air, “a few months later, you are taken once again, then rescuedandbrought back here again.” He looks at me with one eyebrow raised, waiting for a response.
“Okay…” is all I can muster.
“What I’m saying, Savannah, is you need to give yourself some time. You need to process all that has happened. You haven’t had a chance to live yourownlife yet. You’re twenty-eight years old and—”
“…Still feel like I’m going in circles with no direction and no end in sight,” I answer, feeling like he has just hit the source of my problem. “I don’t really know who I am and what I want, and now that all my major life-altering problems seem to be ending, I find myself lost.” A horrible feeling hits my stomach when I suddenly think of Cole.
“Finding yourself doesn’t mean you have to give up anything. It just means you need a little time to be alone.”
“Space,” I whisper, closing my eyes. “I think I just need some space that’s mine.”
Cole
Cole hangs up the phone after a three-hour conversation with Frank. Turns out they have enough evidence to convict Lynn, thanks to Joe Might, who is willing to throw her under the bus to get a lesser sentence for himself. However, the mayor is pinning it all on Luka Donavan. It’s easier to blame the dead than the living who have a voice.
He pours himself a cup of coffee and leans against the window, watching the snow fall. A storm is coming. They’re supposed to be getting forty-five inches of snow. He’s thankful his father arrived home safely last night. A bullet grazed his shoulder, and now he and Mark are joking that they actually planned their new matching scars.
“Cole?” Savannah whispers behind him.
He turns, feeling the strange vibe that seems to be there whenever they are together lately. He knows he really needs to address the Derek issue, as she still must have raw feelings about it. She’s been acting different since she got back, and it’s not like her to keep him at arm’s length. It’s killing him.
“Cole,” she repeats when he doesn’t answer right away, “do you have a moment?”
He nods and rubs his face. God, he is tired. He sits down on the couch while she takes a seat across from him.
