Page 89 of Unforgotten

At the moment, he couldn’t care about that less.

“I called home. My father thinks it’s a stretch ... but maybe not impossible.”

“Did he tell you not to go?”

“Nee. All he did was tell me to be careful ... and to tell you the same thing. He’s going to call the police station now.”

“Let’s go, then.”

Lott glanced back as he walked away. “Already on my way.”

29

She was running. Bethanne was running so hard and so fast, her lungs felt like they were about to explode. Around her, the woods seemed to have come alive. Noise surrounded her, and all her senses seemed heightened. The trees seemed thicker, more birds were crying out, more rocks and stones were in her path.

Every time she tripped, Bethanne scrambled back to her feet without a care for the scratches on her legs or the cuts on her bare feet. All that mattered was getting help. Getting someone to help her save Candace before Scott killed her.

Tears streamed down her face as she thought of her last seconds in that shack. Scott yelling at her. Hitting and kicking Candace. Her thinking that if her cousin was going to be scarred and hurt for the rest of her life, it would be her fault.

And maybe it would be.

All Bethanne knew for sure was that she probably would’ve turned back ... except for one thing. Candace screaming for her to go.

Over and over the scene replayed in her head. The dust andthe smell of sweat on Scott’s clothes. The way Candace fell to the floor. The way Candace cried out when Scott first hit her.

The first whiff of fresh air.

The way her legs protested when she first attempted to run. All of it would be permanently etched in her head. All the feelings that accompanied it too. Desperation and helplessness. Even anger that once again she’d been caught at a man’s mercy.

But that was it, she thought as she located another break in the woods and sped forward, stumbling over a fallen tree limb. She wasn’t just thinking about herself now. She was thinking about Candace. She would do whatever it took to help her.

Just as Seth Zimmerman had done for her all those years ago. He’d risked everything to help her—and had paid for his help by going to prison. If he could do that, then she could do anything to help Candace. Anything.

The pain in her feet lessened when she reached the path. The ground was damp. What wasn’t mud was covered with a fine layer of moss and clover. Compared to the leaves, twigs, and rocks she’d been running on, it felt heavenly. She gave thanks to God for this brief respite.

She had no idea where she was. Lott had been the one who’d always pushed the boundaries, dashing into the woods as a little boy, hunting and fishing and sneaking around when he was a teenager. She’d been too good.

Or maybe just too scared. Not of her parents’ reactions. No, they might have given her a talking-to, but she’d put the fear in herself. She’d been too afraid to push her own self-made boundaries. Only when she’d been so eager to gain Peter’s complete attention and love had she let her guard down.

A woodpecker drilled into a tree nearby, startling her. Shepaused, attempted to catch her breath. Saw a pair of sparrows suddenly take flight. Had she scared them? Or was it someone else?

“Is anyone out here?” she called out.

The voice sounded weak and strained. Even to her own ears. Thinking of Candace, of the way she was depending on her, Bethanne cried out again. “Hello! Can anyone hear me? Help! I need help!”

The woods surrounding her rustled again. Afraid and unsure, she started walking, biding her time, slowly building her pace. Gathering her courage. “Hello? Anyone?”

The bushes around her moved again. She felt like a dozen creatures were staring at her. Curious. Unafraid.

“Help me!” she screamed. “We need someone!”Gott, we need You!she called out in her mind.

“Bethanne?”

The voice was faint. It sounded like it was coming through an echo chamber. And somewhere far, so far away.

But still, she answered. “Yes! It’s me!”

She thought she could feel the ground vibrate. The by-product of pounding feet on the ground.

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