Page 65 of I’ll Find You

My pulse pounds against my ribs as every instinct screams at me to run, but I don't move. He dismisses me with barely a glance, already convinced I've accepted my fate. He thinks his daughter will finish what he started.

Only then do I let myself believe it. I'm free. Freedom tastes a lot like escape.

Before I can move, a sharp scrape of metal cuts through the room. Maxwell has worked one of his cuffs loose. It hangs from his wrist, half torn free, the skin beneath it raw and bloodied.

“Don’t—” Lucinda says, but it’s too late. Maxwell grabs the nearest thing within reach, which is a heavy metal lamp from the side table, and hurls it with everything he has left. It catches his father across the side of his head. A dull, brutal crack sounds through the confines of the small cabin as he falls face-first onto the floor.

Chelsea lets out a banshee-like scream as her head snaps toward Maxwell. This time, uncontrolled anger flashes across her face, and we catch a true glimpse of the unhinged girl we all called our friend. Chelsea snatches up the fallen lamp and begins to hit Maxwell in the head with it. My body is shaking, but I’m not waiting. I push up from the chair, and this time, I don’t hesitate. I take off running out the door.

Chapter

Thirty-Seven

Alex

At first, it doesn’t feel wrong. Races are sometimes like this. The crowd thins as people spread out and disappear into the trees, only to reappear later at the finish line after completing the designated loop through the trails. It’s all normal, expected even, except as I stand near the edge of the clearing with Ezra, I can’t shake the feeling that something is off. My hands are shoved into my jacket as I watch the trail entrance like I’ve done a dozen times already. Runners continue crossing the finish line in small clusters, but still no Rose.

“You see her?” Ezra asks, craning his neck around.

I shake my head. “She probably took it easy. She’ll come in with the middle of the pack.” It sounds reasonable, but when I check my watch, I know too much time has passed. The band picks up the tempo as another wave of cheers erupts for the runners crossing the finish line. Still, it’s not her.

Callie jogs over, scanning the crowd. “Has she come through yet?”

“No,” I say.

Her smile falters slightly. “She should’ve by now.”

My stomach twists with worry because I know she’s right. I make excuses because I'm not ready to believe the worst. “She might’ve stopped to help someone,” I say. “You know her.”

Callie nods, but she’s already looking past me, searching. More runners move through. None of them mentions seeing her when we question them at the finish line. The string lights overhead glow brighter now as they take over the task from the fading sun.

“Hey,” Denver calls from near the finish line. “You guys seen Rose?” The question is more concerned than anything casual. He’s also checking, realizing this is unusual.

Callie turns toward him. “No. Why?”

Denver shrugs, but there’s a crease between his brows. “Just figured she’d be back by now.” The silence around us breaks, confirming what we’re all thinking, before we spring into action.

A volunteer jogs over from the timing tables. “Someone found this bib in the woods after ducking away from the trail for a bathroom break.” He holds up Rose’s bib, number seventy-four. My stomach drops out. Callie’s head snaps up. “What do you mean by ‘this bib?’”

It’s then that we all know she didn’t make it back.

Callie steps closer to the trail, calling out, “Rose!” Her voice cuts through the noise. No answer. The music keeps playing. People keep talking, all oblivious to Rose’s absence.

“Hey,” Denver says, more serious now. “We should go check.”

I’m already moving. Ezra runs off to find my parents, who will also want to help. I’ll find her. The woods swallow the sound of the clearing almost immediately as I step off the path. The music fades until it’s just our voices in the thicket.

“Rose!” Callie calls again, her voice cutting through the trees. The only answer is the wind moving through the bare branches.

Ezra jogs ahead a few steps, scanning the ground. “She wouldn’t just stop,” he says.

“I know,” I reply, as I try my best to stay level-headed. I pull up the tracker on my phone and see her dot in the middle of the woods. There’s nothing else around. I show it to Ezra.

His eyes widen in shock. “She’s there?” he says, looking out into the woods. “I just hope she’s safe.”

Denver slows suddenly. “Wait.” We all stop. He crouches, pointing just off the trail we were on.

“Is that—” Callie starts. Footprints sit in disturbed dirt. “But it could be from one of the other runners, right?”