Page 63 of Rest In Peace

"Sarah?" The line crackled with his response, a mixture of surprise and concern weaving through his tone.

"Can you come and get me? They… they released me," she rushed the words out, each syllable spiked with desperation. "I don't know where to go, I?—"

"Where are you?" His question cut through the panic, tightening its grip on her chest.

"Outside the jail. I'm… I'm free, but I feel so lost." She clutched the phone tighter, her knuckles turning white against the black plastic.

"Stay right there, okay? I'm on my way. Don't move, Sarah." His steady voice was a solid anchor for her turbulent thoughts.

"Okay, I'll wait."

A sigh deflated her lungs, the relief manifesting in a shaky exhale. The knowledge that she wasn't alone—that he was coming for her—unfurled a fragile sense of security within her.

"Thank you," she whispered, the gratitude wrapping around her like a warm blanket against the chill of the world outside her prison walls.

The car was nondescript, a shadow against the starkness of the jail's exterior—a charcoal gray sedan with tinted windows obscuring any glimpse of the driver. It glided to a stop just inches from where Sarah stood, the hum of its engine a soft purr in the stillness of her release.

For a moment, Sarah hesitated, her heart thumping audibly, a silent drumbeat to the anxiety that danced nervously through her veins.

The passenger door swung open with a quiet creak, breaking her paralysis. There, shrouded in the car's dim interior, sat a silhouette outlined by the faint glow of the dashboard. A hand emerged from the shadows, beckoning.

"Sarah," came from a calm and familiar voice—the voice that had promised to anchor her.

She approached, her steps tentative, pausing at the threshold of the open car door. Her gaze met his, and in the reassuring depths of his eyes, she found the flicker of trust she needed to step forward.

"Come on; let's get you out of here," he urged softly, his words a gentle nudge against her inertia.

With a shallow breath, Sarah slid into the seat, the leather cool beneath her. She pulled the door closed, sealing herself inside with her rescuer, and exhaled. The space between them was charged with unspoken questions, but for now, it was enough to simply be away from the cold bars and echoing footsteps of her cell.

"Adam," Sarah began, her voice barely above a whisper, as the car's purring engine filled the silence between them. "I can't…. Thank you isn't enough. You're here… after everything."

"Sarah," he replied, his tone insistent yet soft, "there's no debt between us. I'm where I need to be."

Her heart swelled with a mix of emotions too complex to untangle. There was gratitude and relief but also an entwining fear of the unknown road ahead. Yet, in his presence, she found a beacon of stability.

"Without you…" she started, but her words trailed off, lost in the labyrinth of her thoughts. “I feared I was all alone in the world.”

"Hey," Adam interjected gently, steering the conversation away from the dark roads of what-ifs. "We'll figure this out together. One step at a time."

The car glided forward, the world outside shifting from stark concrete walls to the blur of a life once familiar. She watched through the window as the imposing structure that had defined her recent existence shrank into the background. The jail became nothing more than a silhouette against the skyline—a piece of her past that no longer held her captive.

"Thank you, Adam," she said, turning to face him, her eyes reflecting the vulnerability and hope that danced within. "I knew I could count on you."

"Always," Adam affirmed, his hand finding its way to her thigh, a silent vow of solidarity. "I'm just happy you're out."

As the distance grew between Sarah and the jail, so did the realization of her newfound freedom. A tightness in her chest loosened, giving way to cautious optimism. The road ahead was uncertain, but it was theirs to travel—together.

Chapter 49

Iwas sitting in the hotel room the next morning when my phone suddenly rang. “Hello?

“Yes, this is Monica Chapman.”

“Victoria’s grandmother and the mother of Steven Chapman, yes, I remember you. How can I help you?”

“You left your card here when you were here to talk to Victoria, and now she’s asking for you. She says she has something important to tell you, something she suddenly remembered, so I thought I’d….”

I sat up straight. “You did the right thing. I’ll be right there.”

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