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I should be okay with his absence. He’s worked for The Organization since he was sixteen. Within the past seven years, nothing has happened to him. But not long ago, my oldest brother, Tucker, was hurt. For a couple of days, we didn’t know if he would live or die.
Is it possible to hate The Organization as much as I love the work they do?
The high intelligence agency Uncle Mason set up so many years ago saves lives and helps the world. However, sometimes during missions, some men come back injured or, worse, dead.
I can’t stop asking myself: What if something happens tomy man?
Archer should quit, but I can’t ask him to. He loves being an agent, saving lives, and making this world a better place.
However, the uncertainty of not knowing if he’s safe is slowly killing me.
I can barely sleep, and when I do, I have nightmares.
Night terrors where I see him, lost in the jungle, wounded and desperate to come home. Yet, he always promises that he’ll come and find me. That he will never leave me.
I touch my stomach. My entrails have been tied into knots since last week when the dreams began.
Last night was the worst. His voice was so clear when he said, “Don’t ever let go of me, baby. I’ll find you soon.”
It’s senseless to be obsessed with those dreams, but this mission is different. Arch and my cousin Seth are isolated. They can’t contact The Organization until the operation is over. If only I knew they were okay.
Push through these crazy thoughts, Piper. He’s going to be okay.
“He will,” I say out loud, finally pushing the blankets away from me.
Turning to my side of the bed, I pick up the frame I have on my nightstand. It’s a picture of the two of us when we moved into this penthouse—the beginning of our life together. I kiss it, place it back where it belongs and convince myself that it’s time to start my day.
After breakfast, I take a shower, do some yoga, and work for a while. Nothing I do calms me. It’s time for my last resort: to write in our mutual journal.
Bleeding words on the pages makes me feel slightly better. Every sentence carries the anguish I’m living with. It’s around noon when I get a call from the doorman. My family is on their way up to visit me.
It’s probably Mom and one of my fathers coming to check on me after our weekly video call. They weren’t thrilled to hear that I was a little anxious. I hate to be a burden to them, but I’m glad they’re here. Mom might give me some exercises to help with the anxiety that’s keeping me awake all night.
When the elevator doors open to the foyer of our penthouse, I smile. Seth is here. I sigh with relief, knowing Archer is about to rush toward me, lift me up, and twirl me around.
But there’s only silence. The sigh of relief changes almost immediately when I look at Seth’s fallen face. Archer isn’t here.
A pang strikes my middle, my heart throbbing forcefully and desperately.
“No, no, no,” I say, shaking my head violently.
“No!” My voice echoes throughout the house.
“Please, no,” I beg. “Tell me he’s okay.”
“I’m sorry,” Uncle Mason says somberly.
“I don’t know,” Seth corrects. He clears his throat. “We can’t confirm anything just yet.”
His response makes sense, and so do my dreams. Archer is alive, he’s just missing. “He’s lost, isn’t he?” I whisper.
“I think so.” Seth nods.
“We’re not sure,” Uncle Mason corrects him, taking a step forward. “He could be—”
“Don’t say the word until you can confirm it,” Mom warns her brother.
“Our people are still combing the area. We were there for days and couldn’t find him,” Uncle Mason rectifies.
