Page 23 of Trapped Truth

“I don’t want a paper trail leading back here.” Warner quickly shakes his head. “We don’t know who can be trusted right now, and I refuse to put Willow in danger for helping us.”

“Fair enough. Driving it is.”

“Axel will be fine.” He pulls up outside the cabin, reaching over the console to take my hand. “It’s going to be okay, Em. You were right. We can do this.”

Lips pursed, I nod then hop out of the truck. Warner watches me climb the steps to Willow’s cabin and knock. When she opens the door, he offers a wave before taking off to update the others.

“Everything okay?” Willow watches his tail lights vanish.

“We have to go, there’s been an update. I wanted to see you before we left town.”

“Of course. Come in, it’s freezing out here.”

Inside the cabin’s warmth, Willow fills two coffee cups then leads me into the fire-lit living room. The log burner is roaring away in the corner, casting light across two huge plaid sofas, weighed down by blankets and throw pillows.

“Take a seat, make yourself at home.”

“Thank you.”

Considering the situations we’ve seen each other in, it seems unnatural to sit and share something as simple as a coffee. I blink a couple times to make sure what I’m seeing is real.

“Ember?” Willow’s mouth forms a half-smile.

“Sorry. Just thinking how odd this is.”

“It’s strange for me too.” She blows into her steaming mug.

“It is?”

“Well, I’m not the person you met anymore. You’re no longer the street fighter I once admired either. Though you’re still badass and a little intimidating, truthfully.”

“Me?” I erupt in laughter. “Intimidating?”

“I mean, I saw you fight.” She shrugs, sipping her hot drink. “Hard not to be intimidated by that.”

“Okay, fair enough. But I’d never hurt you or anyone here, for that matter. We’re on the same side of this fight.”

“God help anyone not on your side, that’s all I have to say.”

Staring down into my coffee cup, I can’t put to words all the things I want to ask her. The questions that have haunted me since I exited the private jet and saw her face again in the middle of nowhere.

In that moment, a world of possibilities opened up. Alternate futures I hadn’t ever allowed myself to consider. If someone like Willow—someone with the same scars and invisible wounds as me—can achieve happiness?

Hell, it must be fucking possible.

She folds her legs up underneath her, setting the cup aside to give me her full attention.

“Why are you here, Ember?”

“I need to know if it exists.”

“If what exists?” Her stare is rapt, unblinking.

Looking around me, all I can see is evidence of her calm, happy life. The kids’ finger paintings scattered across the worn floorboards. Odd piles of clean laundry. Framed family photographs.

She found it. Normalcy.

Maybe… I can too.