2:58 P.M.
Elijah ran through the hospital halls desperate to get to his sister.
He was still in shock.
Part of him believed he would wake up at any second to learn this was just a dream, like the many he’d had since Grace’s disappearance. Part of him believed this was some sort of hallucination, that his stressed-out brain had finally snapped. And part of him believed he had imagined the whole thing.
When Matthew Greer had called him and asked about identifying marks on Grace’s body, Elijah had felt his stomach plummet. After almost six long years he was about to find out it was over, his sister was dead. Then when Matthew had told him Grace had been found alive, he had immediately felt a swell of denial.
Hope was an interesting thing. It brought with it both joy and pain. Being torn between hoping that Grace was still alive and that one day they would find her was contrasted violently with the hope that she was already dead and no longer suffering.
Five and a half years was a long time.
He and his family had searched for her every chance they had. They worked every lead and spoke to every person who was even vaguely related to what had happened. They had never given up on Grace, but in the end, she had been found on a fluke.
As he rounded the corner of the corridor that Grace’s room was located on, he saw Matthew standing outside a door.
His first thought was that Grace was alone.
His second was that he needed to see her. Now. He needed to believe she was really back. Because she was, and he knew that now the hard work would really begin. While this nightmare had been real for Grace, he suspected for the rest of them they had been too focused on finding her to really dwell on what was being done to her, but now it was time to face the nightmare she had suffered head-on. Elijah knew that his baby sister had a long road ahead of her, and part of him wished that his twin brother was here. Jeremiah was a psychiatrist and was much more qualified to help Grace through this than he was.
Intending to barge past Matthew Greer and straight into Grace’s room, the younger man blocked his path. It wasn’t that Elijah wasn’t grateful to Matthew, he was, he could never thank the man enough for finding his sister, but right now he needed to see Grace, and being stopped this close to her was torture.
“Let me past,” he snarled.
“In a moment,” Matthew remained unfazed. “I just want to make sure you’re ready.”
“I'm ready,” he snapped immediately and reached out to open the door when Matthew stepped aside, then he froze. He hadn’t wanted to know any details of what had happened to Grace until he could be here with her. He’d felt like if he had known he wouldn’t have been able to make it through the couple of hours it took to get to her. But now there was no more putting off the inevitable. “He hurt her.”
“Yes.”
“Physically.”
“Yes.”
“Sexually?” The word almost stuck in his throat.
“She didn't say that he did.”
But that didn't mean she hadn't been. “What injuries does she have?”
“She’s dehydrated and has some welts on her back.”
He winced. He didn’t need confirmation that the man who had taken her had used a whip on her. “Thank you. For finding her and for staying with her.”
“Of course, she should never have to be alone again.”
And she wouldn’t. Elijah had no plans of letting Grace out of his sight any time soon.
Ignoring the jitters and doubts that he wouldn’t be able to do or say the right thing to help his baby sister, he opened the door and stepped into the room.
It was real.
Shewas real.
She lay in the bed, her long blonde hair framed her pale face in a wild mess of curls. Although five years had passed since he had last seen her, she looked younger somehow, small and fragile and vulnerable.
He stepped closer to the bed. His hand went to touch her but stopped. Almost afraid to do it. Afraid she was a mirage, afraid he’d hurt her, and afraid that she would wake up and fall apart. Afraid thathewould fall apart.