Wren and I stare at each other in the hallway. The washing machine is still rumbling in the background, but it sounds distant now.
Wren’s lip wobbles. Her eyes fill with tears.
“Grim,” she whispers. Her voice breaks. “You can’t go. It’s too dangerous.”
I don’t say anything. What can I say? She’s right. There’s a very real chance I won’t make it out of there alive.
But I have to try.
For Sally and for the truth. For all the shifters on this island who deserve to know what’s being done to them. This will be the catalyst.
Wren deserves to know, too. I might not be able to tell her everything yet, but I can give her some information. I’m sick to death of lying.
“There’s something I have to tell you…” I start to say, but Falkor rounds the corner.
He stops when he sees us, eyes narrowing. “Is everything okay?”
Wren bursts into tears.
39
Wren
I can’t stop the tears from streaming down my face. My body is shaking, and I wrap my arms around myself, trying to hold it together.
I don’t know why I’m acting this way. I knew this would happen. I was waiting for this moment to come. If anything, it’s taken a little longer than expected.
Sally is doing well. That should be good news. Itisgood news. But they’re going to kill her if we don’t stop them. They’regoing to pull the plug and make it look like she died from her injuries, and everyone will continue to blame Grim.
And then Grim could actually die tonight, and I might never see him again.
“No, everything is not okay,” I tell Falkor, wiping my face.
“Oh dear,” the old male says, frowning. “I didn’t think so.”
“Come on.” Grim puts his hand on the small of my back. “Let’s go to the living room to talk this through.”
I let him guide me down the hallway, Falkor following close behind. My legs feel like jelly, and I’m grateful for Grim’s steadying presence.
It feels surreal that just an hour ago, my biggest worry was getting stubborn dust off the top shelf in one of the bedrooms. I had all of this in the back of my mind, but still… I thought we still had time.
Grim steers me to the couch, and I sit. He takes a seat next to me, close enough that our thighs touch. Falkor sits in his armchair, his kind eyes watching us with concern.
“What’s going on?” Falkor asks. “Did your friend call?”
He knows we’ve been waiting for a call. He knows most of what’s going on. We haven’t disclosed Drake’s name, just to be safe.
Grim rubs his chin. “Sally is recovering well from her injuries. Too well. My friend thinks they’re going to pull the plug on her soon. We have a few days at most.”
Falkor’s expression darkens. “Those bastards.”
“We told you about the video evidence at the vaccination center,” Grim continues.
Falkor nods.
“The time has come for me to get that evidence, before it’s too late.”
Falkor’s eyes widen with understanding. “You’re going to break in.”
