Page 14 of Deadfall

There was a weighted silence before he spoke again.

“It’s three days to the road where I found you,” he stated.

Three days. I tried to run through all the possible plans of action I could take.

“Five days to the nearest town.”

I nodded without looking up. That would be difficult, but I could probably do it. If I had the right supplies. My stomach twisted. Would Sacha let me borrow enough supplies and food? What if I had to hunt? What if it rained and I couldn’t start a fire? What if I ran into a bear? What if the snow came early? What if—

“Say you make it to town,” Sacha interrupted. “What happens after that?”

Where would I go? I didn’t have a home.

The thought abruptly crashed through my head and shoved everything else aside. My shoulders slumped as tears welled. To my dismay, a few escaped down my cheeks before I could stop them. I didn’t have a family. After three years, I didn’t know how to contact anyone I’d known in that life. I’d been ten for fuck’s sake. I had no money, no car—so, what, I’d show up in town and hitchhike to…where?

That sounded like a quick way to get murdered, or worse.

Apparently Sacha thought so too as his frown deepened. My reaction seemed to solidify something he’d been thinking because his expression grew firm and he leaned his forearms on the table.

“Look at me.” He waited until my eyes met his. “Someone hurt you, yes?”

I gave what could barely be considered a nod.

“Someone took from you.”

Another nod. The look on his face sent a shiver down my spine at its intensity.

“So, what are you going to do about it?”

The question was so wild, I couldn’t wrap my head around it. What did he mean? What was I going to do about it? What could I do? I was only thirteen—

I didn’t have a family anymore, which meant I was on my own. The thought hurt—not to mention it was also really scary.

“It’s time to grow up, Emersyn,” Sacha said, and although the words were harsh, his delivery was simply a statement. “The question now is, what do you want?”

What did I want? No one had ever asked me that question, and I hadn’t thought about the past because it was too painful. There hadn’t been room to dream of a future. The more I thought about the question, the more a different kind of thrill cut through the panic. Suddenly, the answer was clear.

“I want to find out if my dad is still alive.”

“Anything else?”

My fists clenched on the table, nervous to even voice the dark thoughts that had started to surface. Rage licked under my skin and stoked a primal heat somewhere deep in my chest. My lips thinned and I dropped my eyes again, but Sacha must have seen something on my face because he didn’t let it go.

“Say it out loud, Emersyn.”

My fists clenched and my truth roared to the surface. “I want—I want to make the people who hurt me pay.”

Saying the words released something inside. The rage was still there, but it was acknowledged, sated by the idea of vengeance.

Sacha’s eyes glittered in the light. “How?”

And just like that, hopelessness returned. How? I didn’t have a clue. It seemed like a daunting task. I was only thirteen—with no skills, no connections—I had nothing. The thought was a sobering one and I could feel myself deflate with the pure vastness of such an idea.

I frowned, my shoulders slumped. “I don’t know,” I admitted quietly.

Sacha stood up and gathered his plate. “‘A man who moves mountains begins by carrying away small stones,’” he quoted. “You understand what that means, yes?”

I wasn’t sure if I did, but Sacha jerked his head toward my plate.