Page 83 of Freedom’s Inferno

I gripped the edge of the sink until my knuckles whitened. My chest hurt, pressure building under my ribs, and I could have sworn the scar that marred my left wrist stung like a phantom burn. My father’s rage and my mother’s ghost warred somewhere in the back of my skull, their spirits blurring until I couldn’t tell which memory hurt more.

I’d told Lana I wanted a minute, a moment to breathe, but what I needed was to stop shaking.

The conversation with Gloria still echoed in my head. She seemed like a kind lady, genuine even, but hearing her speak was like listening to a stranger narrate my life. She hadn’t lived a second of it. Hell, my mother had only managed a fraction! Gloria spoke about forgiveness as if it were salvation.

She wanted peace. I think she’s got it now.

My mother didn’t deserve peace.

Where was my fucking peace?

A fleeting image flashed across the screen of my mind: a shock of scarlet hair against a backdrop of the autumn sky. Peace.

I turned the tap, and cold water sputtered to life. I caught it in my hands and threw it over my face once, then again. The chill hit like a slap, sharp enough to steal my breath. It streamed down in thin trails, dripping from my stubbled jaw into the sink.

“Get it together,” I muttered.

Outside the bathroom door came the hushed murmur of the café, espresso machines steaming, muted conversation, someone laughing. Everything felt foreign, like I belonged to a different world.

Walking out, I fit the mask firmly back into place. That false calm that made it look like I was fine. The one I’d been hiding behind for years…

The woman at the counter gave me a polite smile. “What can I get you?”

“Black coffee,” I said. My voice came out lower than usual, scraped thin.

Outside, the air was colder than I expected. The fog and the scattering of autumn leaves painted the perfect picture of fall, muted, fleeting, and beautiful in the way that dying things often are.

I expected to see her right away. Lana had been standing outside when I went in, leaning against the railing with her arms folded, her expression distant but calm. I pictured her there as I took my first sip of coffee, the heat of it biting my tongue. Instead, the space in front of the building was empty.

I frowned, scanning the lot. Maybe she’d gone to wait by the car. The thought steadied me as I started toward the Lexus, footsteps muffled on wet pavement.

“Lana?” I called out.

I circled around the car, half expecting her to pop up from the passenger side with some sarcastic remark about me taking too long, but no one was there. No movement. Condensation streaked the driver’s side window, untouched.

“Lana?” I said again, louder this time. My voice carried into the fog, then disappeared.

A pulse of unease hit low in my stomach. I walked faster, scanning the street, the narrow alley beside the sober house, the small coffee shop window still glowing behind me. The world was colorless and blurred, like a half-remembered dream.

She couldn’t have gone far. She wouldn’t have. Or… would she?

I’d been a complete asshole.

The thought landed wrong.

What if she’d left on purpose? What if this was the part where she decided she’d had enough of me, of the mess, of dragging me along behind her?

No. I crushed that line of thinking as quickly as it began. She wouldn’t leave me. Somehow, I’d come to believe I mattered. That I wasn’t beneath her, or convenient, or temporary. That I was someone she chose.

My chest tightened. “Lana!” The name came out raw, desperate, sharper than I meant it to. The fog swallowed it, and gave nothing back.

My throat burned. I ran a hand through my hair, trying to think, trying to reason. I was only gone for five minutes. Ten at most. How far could she have gone?

A panic I could not control surged up fast, cruel, cutting through the careful calm I’d been holding onto since Haven House. My breathing turned shallow, my chest too tight. Every worst possibility flooded in at once: Costa, his men, that goddamn truck, every threat we thought we’d outrun.

“No,” I whispered. “No, no, no…”

She was gone.