Page 65 of Heart of Frost and Scars

“Therapy. Talk to someone. You need counseling. We all do.”

“Fine.”

“No, not fine. You have to want this, to want to get better. That means sharing your feelings and opening up.”

“I’ll try.” I release a shaky breath. “For you, I’ll try.”

“Starting immediately. Like this week.”

“All right.”

“Thank you.” She inhales sharply. “One more thing.”

“I’m listening.”

Her nails dig into my shirt, fisting the starched fabric. “Don’t fucking hurt me again.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I’ll prove you wrong.”

“I hope you do.” She untangles our hands and leans back, regarding me.

Gratitude. Relief. Hope. It’s all there in her striking eyes, the change of her breath, the drop of her shoulders, and the chambers of her heart inviting me in.

Fucking finally.

Let this be a lesson to you, little girl. Never invite a monster into your heart. Because it renders you powerless.

14

Monty

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The next three days bleed into a grind of finalizing details and rehearsing our story until it’s woven tight. Every word we practice is a carefully placed brick in the wall we’re building to protect Frankie.

Meetings with detectives come first. They interrogate us separately, poke around for cracks in our wall, and leave with the promise to find the two mothers who lost their sons.

They won’t.

Then the press arrives, vultures circling for scraps, starving for a juicy story, demanding their pound of flesh.

They’re the hardest to convince.

To satisfy them, we agree to separate interviews and spend two days moving from one engagement to the next within the estate.

We only need to give them enough to answer their questions. If there’s nothing scandalous to report on, they’ll pack up and go away.

After my final interview, I wander the main house, searching for my wife.

My mind races, constantly scanning for potential threats, calculating risks, and mapping out contingency plans if our story doesn’t stick.

The most pressing topic in every interview has been the location of the cabin. If I only knew. It’s the catalyst that can set the whole thing on fire.

Denver never told them its location, and the storm disoriented Leo during the flight, leaving him unsure of the exact direction they came from. Frankie’s convinced it lies in the hills of the Brooks Range, but we have no way to confirm this without sending a massive search party. Which could draw unwanted attention.

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