Page 59 of Rescued By Midnight

It means we’re close. With wide eyes, she looks from left to right, searching for danger. We’re covered in shadow, as pines reach into the sky all around us, blotting out the sun.

Cody comes up on her other side. “We’re here with you, Alice. You aren’t alone.”

She gives him a short nod. I’m not sure if she heard him entirely.

Especially because I can hear chickens, and as we come around a tight grouping of trees, a cabin comes into view.

Alice freezes in place.

CODY - NOW

Landon has done a pretty good job keeping Alice distracted, but he can only do so much in the face of what I am pretty fucking sure is the cabin where she was held captive.

She stops walking and stares.

A beat-up SUV, the sides covered in mud and scratches, sits in front of the rundown cabin. The building itself looks like it’s held together by duct tape and prayers. I doubt there’s any insulation on that thing—in fact, I think I can see through cracks in the wall to the interior.

“This is it?” Landon asks.

Alice doesn’t move or respond.

“Okay, let’s get her out of here,” I say. I’ll carry her if I have to.

Landon shakes his head, but his gray eyes are filled with worry. “No, give her a minute. She wants a resolution to all of this.”

“We can come back for her resolution, while she stays safely in the apartment.”

“If she’s here, she’ll remember more. We could get this fixed sooner rather than later.”

“Not everything can be fixed, Sprechter.” I want to shake him. “Not everything gets better. Sometimes it stays the same, or it gets worse.”

“Fuck.” He stares up at the treetops like he’s searching for an answer. “Fuck, you really believe that, don’t you?”

I shrug. It’s the truth. “Let’s just get her back to the car.”

But Alice finally moves. She takes a slow, unsteady step forward, like she’s sleepwalking.

She walks toward the cabin.

“Alice?” Landon asks, reaching forward.

“I need to see.” She pats his hand, reassuring him. “I just need to look. I’ll be okay. The nightmare is over. I’m awake now.”

She’s stronger than we think. She’s stronger than either of us.

ALICE - NOW

If I go inside that cabin, I’ll remember more. But memories can’t hurt me physically, Cammie reminded me at therapy today. They can hurt me emotionally, she said, but if I can confront them carefully, at my own speed, they’ll hold less power over me.

And I don’t have to let them trap me.

The chickens are alive. At least, some of them are. I can’t see them yet, but I can hear them clucking away behind the cabin. I’m glad for that. There must have been enough rain up here to keep their water supply replenished. And the large coop includes plenty of grass and feed.

Abe is not here. The door is open, just as I left it. He never left it open. There was no point, really. Even on the hottest days of summer, the pitted, board walls let in plenty of air.

I step through the doorway and peer inside.

The chain, still coiled under the bed. The pan, still on the stove I never turned on. A thick layer of dust coats everything. Leftovers from windy days, without me here to wipe it away. I tried to keep a tidy living space, as challenging as it was. That was my role, the only role I could remember, while I was here. Escape was always on my mind, and I tried more than once, but when I wasn’t attempting an escape or dreaming of Before, I was fulfilling the role for which I’d been raised: compliant housewife who cleans, cooks, and keeps a calm, peaceful home.