"I love him!"
The words hang in the air, shocking even me. I've never said them aloud before, never even fully acknowledged them in my own mind until this moment.
Richard and Bill exchange looks.
"Look," Richard says gently, "nobody's accusing anyone of anything. But Emma, your parents have been worried sick. There's been search parties out looking for you."
Guilt washes over me. In my bubble of happiness with Wyatt, I hadn't considered what my disappearance might look like to others.
"I'm sorry," I say, glancing at my parents. "I should have called. My phone died, and I-I lost track of time."
My mother's face softens slightly. "Just come home, sweetheart. Whatever's happening here, we can sort it out later."
I feel Wyatt's body tense behind me. We were just talking about our future together a few minutes ago.
"I'd like a moment alone with Emma," he says, his voice carefully controlled.
My father jabs an accusing finger at him. "Absolutely not."
Bill steps forward. "Mr. Carter, why don't we give them two minutes? We'll be right here."
"Out of the question. Emma, get your things. We're leaving."
I turn to face Wyatt, my back to everyone else. His blue eyes are storm-dark with emotion.
"I'm so sorry for this mess," I whisper, low enough that only he can hear. "I don't want to go.” We step back a little further, inside the doorway.
Wyatt’s jaw tightens. "If you leave with them now, accusing me of nothing, it will blow over. If you stay..." He swallows hard. "They could make trouble. Charges. Kidnapping. I don't give a damn what it will do to me, but it will disrupt your life. You're so close to graduating. You don't need additional stress."
Horror washes through me because God, I didn't think that far ahead. "You didn't kidnap me!”
"They don't know that." He touches my cheek briefly and smiles sadly. "Go with them, baby. Protect yourself."
Tears burn in my eyes. "Protect you, you mean."
The smallest nod. "I'll be fine, and I'll be here. I'm not going anywhere."
"Emma, now!" My father's voice cuts through our whispered exchange.
I reach up, touching Wyatt's face one last time. "I'll come back."
He smiles again, but it's not the smile I've grown to love. It's the kind of smile that says, 'I don't believe you, but whatever you say.' It's the kind of smile that says goodbye.
Turning away from him feels like tearing out a vital organ. I walk stiffly back inside, gathering my camera bag and my backpack. When I emerge, Wyatt has stepped back outside onto the porch, waiting for me, but his face is stern – an expressionless mask.
"I was lost," I say loudly to the rangers. “This man,” I place my palm firmly on Wyatt’s arm. “Wyatt Stone, saved my life and offered me shelter. I stayed of my own free will. I want that on record."
Richard nods, jotting something in his notebook. Bill just looks sad.
"Take care of yourself, Wyatt," Bill says quietly.
Wyatt doesn't answer, just watches as my father takes my arm and leads me to the truck. I look back once, memorizing the sight of him standing on his porch, tall and solid and devastatingly alone, Cain and Abel standing on either side of him.
"Were you hypnotized? Drugged?"My mother's questions fill the suffocating space of the truck as we wind down the mountain roads. "I've read about these mountain men, how they can manipulate vulnerable young women, how they prey on the weak, the naïve?—“
"Mom, stop." My voice sounds hollow even to my own ears. I am so freaking exhausted. "Wyatt is educated, intelligent, and kind. He helped me when I was lost. Everything else was my choice."
"But sweetheart, you're not yourself. The Emma we know wouldn't just disappear for nine days with some strange, bearded man in the woods."
