Chapters (70)
- PROLOGUE
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5. Morgan
- Chapter 6. Anna
- Chapter 7. Morgan
- Chapter 8. Anna
- Chapter 9. Morgan
- Chapter 10. Anna
- Chapter 11. Morgan
- Chapter 12. Anna
- Chapter 13. Morgan
- Chapter 14. Anna
- Chapter 15. Morgan
- Chapter 16. Anna
- Chapter 17. Morgan
- Chapter 18. Anna
- Chapter 19. Morgan
- Chapter 20. Anna
- Chapter 21. Morgan
- Chapter 22. Anna
- Chapter 23. Morgan
- Chapter 24. Anna
- Chapter 25. Morgan
- Chapter 26. Anna
- Chapter 27. Morgan
- Chapter 28. Anna
- Chapter 29. Morgan
- Chapter 30. Anna
- Chapter 31. Morgan
- Chapter 32. Anna
- Chapter 33. Morgan
- Chapter 34. Anna
- Chapter 35. Morgan
- Chapter 36. Anna
- Chapter 37. Morgan
- Chapter 38. Anna
- Chapter 39. Morgan
- Chapter 40. Anna
- Chapter 41. Morgan
- Chapter 42. Anna
- Chapter 43. Morgan
- Chapter 44. Anna
- Chapter 45. Morgan
- Chapter 46. Anna
- Chapter 47. Morgan
- Chapter 48. Anna
- Chapter 49. Morgan
- Chapter 50. Anna
- Chapter 51. Morgan
- Chapter 52. Anna
- Chapter 53. Morgan
- Chapter 54. Anna
- Chapter 55. Morgan
- Chapter 56. Anna
- Chapter 57. Morgan
- Chapter 58. Anna
- Chapter 59. Morgan
- Chapter 60
- Chapter 61
- Chapter 62
- Chapter 63
- Chapter 64
- Chapter 65
- Chapter 66
- Chapter 67
- Epilogue: Morgan
- Acknowledgements
King Street. She spotted the sign and turned left to see a big brick block of a building. The Hotel Joseph Hewes. It would be her home while she was in this town she knew as well as she knew Jupiter or Saturn. She drove into the parking lot, heart pounding, hands sticky on the steering wheel, wondering what the next few days would hold.
Chapter 3
MORGAN
June 13, 2018
I blinked against the bright sunlight as I walked with Lisa toward the silver sedan in the prison parking lot. The only words Lisa had said to me so far were “do you have everything?” and the two of us were quiet as we left the building. I breathed in the sweet air of freedom, but my stomach was full of knots. I held my chin high, though. Put on the tough-girl look I’d perfected inside. I’m not afraid of anything, I told myself … though the truth was, I was undeniably intimidated by the woman at my side. Lisa was Jesse Jameson Williams’s daughter, which was enough to intimidate anyone, but it was more than that. I couldn’t read her. Her brittle silence, for starters. What was that about? Her upright carriage and no-nonsense speed walk as she headed toward the car while checking her phone every two seconds. Her unsmiling, clenched-teeth expression. Anger bubbled just below the surface in this woman, I thought, and I didn’t like the fact that she held all the cards for my future.
I hadn’t anticipated the unease I felt getting into a car. It had been a bit more than a year since I’d been in any sort of vehicle, and my fingers froze on the outside handle of the car door. Lisa was already in the driver’s seat by the time I managed to pull myself together enough to open the door. Even then, I stood there holding the plastic bag of my very few belongings at my side, the muscles in my legs locked in paralysis.
“Come on, get in,” Lisa called.
I climbed into the car and sat down on the leather seat, dropping the bag of belongings at my feet. I pulled the door closed, then buckled the seat belt with fingers that felt ice-cold despite the warm spring weather.