I Took His Prison Sentence. Now He Begs. novel · Chapter 10 of 24

Chapter 10: The Photograph on the Desk

Willa's POV

Ben was gone when I woke up on Saturday.

His truck was gone, and the folder from under his seat was gone, and the soup plate I had left for him sat washed on the rack.

I stood in the quiet kitchen with my coffee.

When I had woken on the couch at dawn, there was a blanket over me that I hadn't put there.

The study door was open.

I had never seen it open.

It was the one room in the house he kept shut, a small square room with a desk at the window.

I only meant to close the door.

On the desk, in a plain frame, was a photograph of a young woman in blue scrubs. She was laughing at whoever held the camera, and her hair was blowing across her mouth.

A white candle stood beside the frame, burned half down.

Under the frame, a strip of blue cloth.

I went cold.

I knew that face.

I had seen it once, under headlights, on a wet road.

"What are you doing in here?"

Ben stood in the doorway.

I hadn't heard the truck. He was soaked from the rain, his hands empty.

"The door was open," I said. "I'm sorry. Who is she?"

He didn't answer for a moment.

"Her name was Annika Doyle."

The floor tilted.

"I know her name," I said.

"I know you do."

"She was..."

"My sister." His voice shook. "My mother's daughter. Half-sister on paper, and I never once said half."

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