I open my eyes.
The steel door opens.
A guard removes his mask, and Jameson shakes out his hair. Blood splatters across his chest.
“I knew you didn’t kill those people on campus,” he states as he removes the chains from my wrists and ankles.
He pulls me in and slaps my back.
“Thanks for breaking me out of here.”
“No problem. That’s what friends are for.”
I didn’t expect him to break me out of prison. I didn’t think anyone cared about me except Lilac.
“I knew when you called that it was bad,” he says, “but I didn’t think you were getting framed for those murders.”
He tosses clothes at me. “Put those on. I disarmed the place, but we only have twenty minutes before the cameras come back online.”
I pull on the guard’s uniform and slip the mask over my face. We walk slowly through the prison.
My heart is in my throat as we pass other guards. No one suspects anything—yet. Jameson scans a metal card. The screen on the wall turns green. We walk out of the building.
Inside the SUV, Jameson gets into the driver’s seat, and I slide into the passenger seat. I exhale and remove the mask. He hands me my phone, then pulls up a map. A single dot pulses on the screen.
“Your wife is at a cemetery,” Jameson says. “Do we go get her first, then figure—”
“Take me to Lilac.”
I’m fucking glad I put a GPS tracker on my wife. Without it, I wouldn’t have a clue where she is.
Why would she be at the cemetery where my mother is buried? Maybe she’s saying goodbye. That’s one of the things I love about Lilac—she’s sweet. She actually listened when I talked about my mother.
Jameson stops the car, and I jump out, following the blue dot. I stand exactly where it says she is—but she’s nowhere in sight.
I crinkle my nose and glance around the cemetery. The tracking device is one hundred percent accurate.
Jameson scans the eerie grounds. “Where the fuck is she?”
“The tracker is in her body—not her phone.”
I glance down at the fresh soil. Dug up. Recently.
My ears ring. My stomach drops.
“No fucking way… Is she buried in there?”
I check Lilac’s vitals through the app. Her heart rate is slowing. Her oxygen levels are dropping.
“No! No!” I bellow. “She’s in the ground! Go get shovels!”
My chest tightens. Goosebumps crawl up my skin.
Jameson rushes back with shovels, and we dig, throwing dirt everywhere.
“Don’t die on me, baby!” I scream. “Faster!”
“We’re going to get her out!” Jameson yells as we dig as fast as we can.
