Page 125 of Irreversible

I stare back at him, dumbstruck.

He’s aged.

His eyes don’t look the same.

Cradling his face in both hands, I dust my thumbs over his lightly stubbled jaw. “I thought you were dead,” I croak out, more tears threatening. “I never thought I’d get to touch you again.”

Something passes through him, fills his eyes.

Anguish.

He swallows hard. “I thoughtyouwere dead.” Long fingers graze through my knotted hair. “I believed it. Everly, I?—”

His words are cut short when an officer approaches, gripping me by the elbow. “Miss, we need to get you both to a hospital. The ambulance is waiting.”

I’m pried away from Jasper as I glance around. The expansive stretch of grass and weeds is fenced by a lush tree line. No other buildings to be seen. We’re in the middle of nowhere.

My eyes search, desperate.

I’m looking for someone. A faceless man.

A voice.

There are two men in handcuffs being led to a police cruiser. Behind me, a woman is wailing in an officer’s arms, her nightgown in tatters, soot and blood coating her skin.

The officer pulls me away, guiding us to the ambulance. I keep looking around with urgency, hoping I spot a man with dark hair, wearing jeans and a navy T-shirt. But I don’t see him.

As my feet catch up to the officer, I peer up at the man in uniform. “Did you rescue a man named Isaac?” I try to pull away, but he holds on to my wrist. “He was a prisoner, like me. I can’t find him…”

“Everyone made it out, Miss.”

Lies.

Not everyone.

“Please, I can’t find him. I?—”

A second man approaches, who looks like a detective. Dark-blond hair and warm brown eyes come into view as he cuts in front of us, stopping me with an extended hand.

“Can I get your name?” he prompts.

“I…” My mind is in a daze, a dreamworld. “Everly. Everly Cross.”

Recognition lights up his gaze for a beat.

He knows me. From the news reports. The media.

But he doesn’t say anything else, only giving me a short nod before his attention is pulled away.

“Wait…wait, no, please. I’m looking for someone!” I call to his retreating back. “I need to find Isa?—”

“Right this way, please,” an officer interrupts.

The detective disappears into the chaos. Hopelessness slams into me as the ambulance doors open and a gurney is rolled out.

I don’t need a gurney. I just need to know he survived.

I can’t leave him behind.

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