Chapter 13: Watch Her Hands

Bethany reached me before anyone could stop her.

She threw both arms around my neck and pressed her wet face into my shoulder.

"You're alive," she sobbed. "You're really alive. I prayed every night."

Her hair smelled of the same vanilla soap she had left in our bathroom for two years.

I stood in her arms and did not lift mine.

Her lips moved against my ear.

"Smile," she whispered. "Or I will scream."

Then she pulled back and wiped her eyes for Brecken's chief to see.

"Look at her, she's so thin," she said to the street. "Freya, sweetheart, who is this man? Are you safe here?"

Jakub came down the last step and stood at my left shoulder.

"I live here," he said. "She is safe."

"Of course," Bethany said warmly. "Thank you for taking care of her."

She turned to Brecken, who was still hanging in his chief's arms with blood on his chin.

"Brecken, you found her and you didn't even call me? I have been in this city for days chasing a rumor."

"I didn't know," he said hoarsely. "Bethany, I didn't know I would find her."

"Of course you didn't."

She reached up and smoothed his hair off his forehead, and he let her.

I had watched her do that a hundred times.

I had never once watched his face while she did it.

Now I did, and he was looking at her hand and not moving his head.

"Sir, the ambulance is four minutes away," the chief said.

"Wait."

Brecken pushed off the man's arm and stood on his own.

"Freya. What did you want me to see?"

I had not said I wanted him to see anything.

But he had asked for one minute in the snow, and I had one thing to give him.

I looked at Jakub.

He took his phone from his jacket and put it in my palm, and I opened the doctor's message.

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