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Jo

B lind people ran all the time, but as far as Jo knew, always under controlled conditions—with a sighted guide, in a familiar environment, relaxed and aware of their surroundings. Not on their own, without any idea where they were heading, their heart so full of fear it was hard to breathe.

Jo ran at top speed, her hands spread out in front of her. The possibility of hitting a tree worried her much less than the possibility of Horns catching her again. A part of her wondered if she should have hit him harder, or at least locked him in the trunk. But she’d been going by instinct, and her instinct had screamed at her to run. As fast and as far as she could.

Her trainers—and she was so glad she’d been wearing them in the office today—slipped on the road. She only just managed to recover her balance and kept going. The stitch in her side grew to a full burn, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t afford to. The thought of Horns catching up with her again was enough to force her legs to keep moving.

Her breath came in ragged gasps, the cool air tearing at her throat. Just keep going. As far as you can. Then a bit further. She wished Hugo were here with her. Hugo would know what to do. Then she shook her head. No. She didn’t want him here. She wanted him as far from Horns as humanly possible. Where Horns couldn’t hurt him.

The stitch in her side was unbearable now, a fiery knot that made her want to double over, but she shoved the pain aside. The sound of a distant stream grew, and she ran towards the sound. If she could reach it, maybe she could follow it, use it to mask her steps. At least then she’d know she was heading somewhere , and not just running in circles.

Gravel crunched between her feet. When the noise changed to something metallic, she breathed a sigh of relief. The bridge. She’d found it. Except this was nothing like the bridge she and Hugo had been on the other day. This wasn’t a river she could simply follow. The water sounded far, far away, and it was moving fast. Her outstretched hands found the barrier. A sharp noise behind her—a snapped branch—awoke her fear anew.

She held on to the side of the bridge with one hand, feeling her way along. Moving away from the sound.

“Jo!” Horns’s voice called out. “Stop running!”

Her pulse spiked. His voice was too close. She focused on the stream. The river was right there, beneath her. Jump. The idea came to her suddenly. And it was crazy, because she wasn’t sure how far the jump was, but this was Chamonix—not Niagara Falls. Still, the idea was insane. So much could go wrong. She could hit her head on a rock. Even if she didn’t, hypothermia was no joke. She knew that now. And yet, it was better than what Horns wished for her. He might not have admitted it to himself yet, but she knew that if he caught her again, he’d never let her go.

“Jolene!” Horns’s voice bit through her darkness. He was closer now. Too close. Before she could second-guess herself, she put both hands on the barrier and pushed herself up. Her legs felt like lead, but there were plenty of footholds, and soon she was standing on the other side of the barrier.

“Stop! Or I’ll jump.”

“Enough games, Jolene. You’re coming with me.” He didn’t believe she would jump. But she would. She wasn’t going anywhere with him.

A new noise broke the silence, louder than the blood pumping through her ears, louder than the erratic beating of her heart. A helicopter . Her hearing was keen. Horns wouldn’t have heard it yet. But he would, soon. And it could be anything. But her heart told her it was Hugo.

Her hands hurt from gripping the barrier. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. She wasn’t safe here.

“Jolene!” Horns’s voice was right next to her, now. While she worried about the helicopter, he’d gotten closer. His fingers tightened like bands of steel around her wrist. No. She pulled back, horrified, needing to get away from him—heedless of the consequences. In the next instant, her momentum pulled her off the small ledge.

Horns’s grip on her wrist held, jerking her fall to a stop. He gave a pained roar. His hand clamped harder around her wrist, pulling until she felt her shoulder might be pulled out of its socket.

Her other hand scrabbled, searching for purchase, searching for anything she could hold on to. Pure, unadulterated terror soared through her. And then, before she could find it, his fingers released her. A scream ripped from her throat as she fell.