Page 61 of Stolen Faith

Brennon lifted his head, eyeing her. “Izabel?”

“I… Yes. I can hear you again.”

“You couldn’t…hear us?” Brennon examined her head, then started sliding his fingers into her hair, fingertips probing her skull. “If you were hit on the head—”

“It can happen with flashbacks,” Rowan said softly.

Brennon turned to look at him, pulling Izabel against his chest as he did. Izabel tucked her head against his neck and took slow breaths.

“You think she… Sorry, I mean, Iza, were you having a flashback?”

She nodded against Brennon. She liked feeling his words rumbling through his chest as he spoke. “Felt like I couldn’t breathe.”

Tears pricked her eyes, and then there was the heavy metallic thunk of the door lock. Brennon pulled her tighter against him and spun around, his back to whoever was coming in. Rowan moved between them and the door.

A second later, the door slammed closed, locked once again, and Izabel peeked up over Brennon’s shoulder.

A pile of food and a small plastic-wrapped case of water bottles sat on the floor.

“Water,” she breathed.

Brennon released her slowly. “Oh, thank God. I didn’t want to drink the back-of-the-toilet water.”

Rowan crouched and ripped open the six-pack of bottles, handing them each one. “Drink half.”

Izabel cracked the lid and took her first glorious sip.

“We need to ration.” Rowan was eyeing the supplies. “We should ration for a day and a half.”

“Why?” Brennon was reluctantly putting the cap back on his bottle.

“The reverend they’re waiting for won’t be back until tomorrow night. That means we probably have twenty-four hours to go.” Rowan examined the packaged energy bars, bags of nuts, and sleeve of crackers. “I don’t think they’d planned on holding us that long.”

“So you think they’ll…what?” Izabel asked. Rowan was full of information if they could just get it out of him.

He paused, clearly trying to think it through to explain. “I’m guessing that this is food they just…had. Probably belongs to the mercenaries.”

“Snacks from their personal stash?” Brennon asked.

“They gathered food they could easily give us without risking that we’d use it for something.” He pointed. “There’s no metal in anything—no twist ties or foil packaging. But I’m also guessing this is all they could find. So unless they plan to make a grocery run just for us…”

“This is probably it.” Izabel nodded at the little pile.

“It’s both amazing and horrifying how your mind works,” Brennon said.

To Izabel’s surprise, Rowan smiled, then portioned everything except the crackers out into three piles.

“We save the salty food for last because it will make us thirsty,” Rowan said, passing them each an energy bar.

By silent accord, they sat side by side, backs against the wall. Izabel’s stomach ached when the first bites of food hit it, and she had to stop eating and wait for the cramps to pass before she could finish her bar. That was hard because the moment she tasted it, she realized just how ravenous she was. It has been…God only knew how many days since her last meal.

She was the last to finish and passed Rowan her wrapper when he held his hand out. Izabel took a breath and the dress dug into her, constricting her ribs.

“I hate that I can’t breathe,” she whispered.

Rowan turned, one leg tucked up. “You can breathe. Look at me. Inhale. Good, hold it, now exhale.”

The panic that had started to creep in faded away as she looked into Rowan’s eyes. Brennon’s warm hands on her cold shoulders made her feel safe.

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