“I know. But I want to.” She bent and kissed his forehead. “I’ll be back soon.”
As she moved to the door, Wendell shifted to let her pass. “He talks about you in his letters,” he said quietly.
She paused. “He talks about you, too.”
A flicker of surprise crossed the older man’s weathered face. “Does he?”
“More than you’d think.” She smiled, then leaned closer. “Ask him about the kintsugi project. The gold repair.”
His brow furrowed in confusion, but he nodded. “I will.”
She slipped out and closed the door softly behind her. Ghost looked up from his position across the hall, a question in his eyes.
“Just giving them some space,” she explained. “Heading to check on Hollis.”
Ghost nodded. “Room 214. Knox is with her.”
The hospital corridors were quieter now, most visitors long gone, only the occasional nurse moving between rooms.
Room 214 was dimly lit when she arrived, the door partially ajar. She knocked softly and pushed it open, expecting to find Hollis resting with Knox keeping vigil beside her.
Instead, only Knox sat there, slumped in a chair, staring at an empty, neatly made bed. His broad shoulders were hunched,his normally vibrant face ashen. He didn’t look up when she entered.
“Knox?” She approached cautiously. “Where’s Hollis?”
He lifted his head. His eyes were red-rimmed, haunted. “Gone.”
“What do you mean, gone? Did they move her to a different room?”
“No.” His voice was hollow. “She’s gone. Left.”
“The hospital? Already?” Maggie frowned, trying to make sense of his words. Hollis had nearly died just hours ago. “She shouldn’t be discharged yet.”
“She wasn’t.” Knox’s hands curled into fists on his knees. “She waited until I went to get coffee and slipped out. Left this.” He held up a folded scrap of paper, his fingers trembling slightly. “Said she couldn’t stay. That she was putting everyone in danger just by being here.”
The pieces clicked into place. Hollis had run before, when Haven House Montana burned. Walker had mentioned it once—how she’d vanished after the fire, how Knox had searched for her for months.
“She left Haven House,” Maggie said slowly. “She left... you.”
“Yeah.” The single word contained so much raw pain it made her chest ache.
“But she almost died today. She can’t just—where would she even go in her condition?”
Knox shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. She’s gone. Again.” He rose abruptly, a controlled violence in his movements as he crumpled the note in his fist. “I’m done chasing ghosts.”
“Knox, wait?—”
But he was already striding past her, his face a mask of granite determination cracked through with grief. “Tell Anson I hope his hands heal.” He paused at the doorway, shoulders tautwith barely restrained emotion. “And if you see her, tell her...” His voice broke. “No. Never mind. She already knows.”
Then he was gone, his footsteps echoing down the corridor, leaving Maggie alone in the room with its empty bed and the lingering scent of antiseptic and smoke.
She stared at the rumpled sheets where Hollis should have been recovering, struggling to understand how someone could walk away from love like that. Knox had pulled Hollis from a burning building. Had breathed life back into her lungs. Had sat by her side for hours, refusing to leave even when the nurses insisted.
And still, she’d run.
Maggie sank into the chair Knox had vacated, suddenly exhausted. Today had stripped everyone raw—Anson with his injured hands, facing his father and his fears. Laura with her twisted obsession, nearly killing to prove her love. Now Hollis and Knox, torn apart by whatever demons drove Hollis to keep running.
Love, it seemed, wasn’t always enough to hold the broken pieces together.
