Page 136 of Conrad

He started to shake, gritted his teeth. “Hang on, Penny. Help is coming.”

And then, just like that—“Conrad, hold on!”

He glanced behind him and spotted Jack, and what looked like Harper and a couple deputies easing their way out onto the ice. Conrad worked his arms under Penelope, pulled her up to himself. “Listen, when I tell you, kick hard. I’m going to pull you up, and you hang on to me and don’t let go.”

Hands grabbed his feet, and he hooked them together, gave Jack something to pull. “Ready?”

Behind him, Harper had grabbed Jack’s waistbelt. “Go, Con!”

Penelope kicked and Conrad pulled her up, and Jack yanked on his feet and the trio slid back, enough for Penelope to slide mostly free.

The ice beneath Conrad cracked, water slicking up. “Keep pulling, Jack!” But the ice kept breaking.

Penelope had found her knees, scrambling onto the ice, but started to sink. Conrad stopped thinking. He leaned up, grabbed her against himself, and rolled. Onto his back, then over, cradling her, and then again to his back, away from the hole.

Jack had fallen back, into the snow, scrambling hard away from the gaping hole.

Conrad let her go, sat up. “Move, move!” He grabbed the back of her jacket, propelling them away from the cracking ice.

Then he found his feet, scooped her up against himself, and they ran, fell, scrambled onto the shore.

He dropped onto his hands and knees, shaking, gulping in breaths as Penelope collapsed beside him, drawing up to the fetal position, shaking.

“Okay, we got you,” said Harper, pouncing on Penelope with a blanket. “We need some help over here!”

“I’m fine—I’m fine!”

But Conrad looked at her. “You’re not fine. You’re bruised, and hypothermic?—”

“Did you get him?” She pulled the blanket tight, her teeth chattering. “Franco—did you get him?”

“We got him,” Jack said.

She smiled, and then turned to Conrad, so much emotion in her eyes it heated Conrad all the way through. “You came for me.”

He gave a laugh, a huff. “Of course I did.”

Her eyes shone. “I knew I could count on you.”

Yes.Yes, she could. And then he followed his next crazy impulse, trusted his instincts, and kissed her.

And he didn’t care who saw it, what pictures might land on social media. Didn’t care that he’d lost his jacket, his clothes plastered to his body, Mr. June, in February.

Didn’t care what might be ahead or behind. Just sank into the moment.

Finally he lifted his head. “I love you, Penelope Pepper. Just so we’re clear. I love you.”

Her mouth opened, still shivering a little, and then she smiled. “I thought we broke up.”

“I can’t keep up. But you shouldn’t believe everything you read on the internet.” Then he wrapped his arms around her, for, you know, body warmth, and kissed her again.

* * *

“And that about wraps it up for this final edition of ‘The Case of Sarah Livingston,’ the baffling and tragic case of Sarah Livingston. Thank you for tuning in today as we unraveled the final threads of a mystery that has taken us on quite the journey.”

Penelope stood in the hallway outside the locker room area of the Blue Ox, one of her EarPods in, listening to the final take of her episode dropping tomorrow night.

Harper wore the other Bluetooth EarPod, leaning against the brick wall, her hand in Jack’s. He scrolled through his phone, probably searching the latest missing-persons reports.

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