Page 42 of The Making of Marnie Jones

Steady.

“When I escaped, I came back to a world I didn't recognize. I wasn’t a twelve-year-old girl anymore—I was nineteen. Seven years of my life vanished, and each one of those days’d been hell. But I didn't have a true safety net to return to. I was a freak. An oddity. The media scrutiny was oppressive, and at the time I convinced myself the interest was because of my father. When I witnessed what Olivia endured, I realized society, as much as the press, was to blame. People obsessed over, and had a tremendous curiosity about me—about what I’d gone through.

“I saw the best therapist money could buy, but she didn’t understand what I was going through. There was no one I could relate to.” Her hands shook—white from being clasped so tightly on her lap. Such a contrast to Wolf's tan-colored skin. “At one point, I’d had enough. I hit my limit of patience, and all the kindness and empathy in the world weren’t going to heal that emptiness. One night, I sat in my room and wished I was back there. At least there everything had been familiar. I knew the rules and expectations. I was familiar with the pain—both physical and emotional. Truth be told, I missed the structure.”

Wolf closed his eyes, as if trying to absorb her words. He remained silent.

“There’s no logic except I escaped one prison for another. What he did to me was unspeakable, but there were moments of humanity—moments when he treated me decently. Although disgusting, his attention was in stark contrast to my father's indifference. In the end, I imagined going back to my captor rather than my home.”

“I can't fathom it.” His words were simple, his tone incredulous.

With the benefit of hindsight, she appreciated how ridiculous the whole notion was. She had no way of explaining it to anyone who hadn’t experienced it.

“If she had a more-stable home life to return to—would that have made a difference?”

“I can't answer that question. I flashed back to those thoughts when Jake told me Olivia was missing.” An honest answer, but he probably wanted more.

“Maybe you see more than you realize.”

“Like you?” She snickered. Then was startled she’d done such a thing.What is it about this man?“Don’t think I'm not aware of your ability.”

Wolf met her gaze head-on. “Most people don't believe.”

“I'm not most people.” She didn't blink. Not that she was sure about Wolf's ability to sense people’s thoughts and emotions, but his empathy was palpable. She found herself opening up to him, as she had with Jake, only much faster.

New topic.

“Where are you from?”

“Is that a tactful way of asking if I’m an Indian?”

She rolled her eyes. “Actually, it’s a way of making conversation. ‘I’m from Toronto, where are you from?’” She arched an eyebrow. “Isn’t Indian politically incorrect? Isn’t the politically correct term Native Canadian or Indigenous Canadian?”

“I have some Indian blood—Indigenous-Canadian. And Nordic. And Irish. I’m a real mixed bag of ethnicities.” His tone was disdainful—as if this topic annoyed him.

But she persisted. “A mixed blessing, you mean.” His heritage explained his exotic features. “So, again I ask, where are you from?”

“A little town called Haines Junction in the Yukon. It’s at the foot of the Kluane Mountain National Park range.”

“What was it like?”

“Quiet. My dad and I lived in a cabin in the woods, and we sort of lived off the land. He gave tours of the park, and was gone for days at a time.”

He said it dismissively, but her curiosity wasn’t satisfied. “Did he leave you alone? I mean what about your mother? Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

Wolf’s slanted glance caused her to cringe inwardly. She was breaking her own rule about asking personal questions. If he answered, she’d be obliged to return the favor.

“It’s all right. I don’t mind questions, and I don’t require reciprocity.” His expression was earnest. “My mother left when I was about four. I have few memories of her. No brothers or sisters. When my dad was in the park, I stayed with some distant relatives. Cousins, or something like that, but I was pretty much left to my own devices. As long as I attended school and got decent grades, no one cared.

“My dad died in a hiking accident when I was fifteen. I joined the army the day I graduated from high school and never looked back. Earned my degree while serving in the reserves. The only thing I was ever good at was being a sniper—all that hunting made me good with a rifle.”

“What is it you do?”

“I was a member of the Canadian Armed forces. After I quit, I moved on to be a UN peacekeeper. I’m on leave right now, waiting for my next deployment.” His look was impassive.

There’s more.This man had a story, and she was dying to discover what it was. Out of character for her, to be sure. Normally, she was happy to let things stay at the surface, never daring to make more than a small ripple. This man made her yearn to dive deeper. “How did Jake save your life?”

He opened his mouth but she caught sight of Jake out of the corner of her eye. She immediately rose to her feet and stepped toward him. She sensed Wolf behind her doing the same thing, but the look on Jake's face wasn’t encouraging, and her stomach sank. “What is it?”

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