Page 79 of Run for Her Life

Ed pulled out a folded picture from the pocket of his shorts. Reluctantly, he handed it to them. “This was tucked in the back of the nightstand drawer. As if Annabelle didn’t want anyone to find it.”

Zoe unfolded it. Her fingers grazed the aged, weathered picture. Annabelle and a man standing in front of a waterfall. Their arms around each other, beaming at the camera. The ease, the intimacy, and the unsettling fact that this man was not her husband.

“Who is he?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I’ve been trying to figure that out, but I don’t have access to any databases or fancy technology.”

“Storm, what do you want to do?” Aiden side-eyed Ed.

Zoe got in Ed’s face. He wilted and for a second she felt bad for the man. “Thank you.”

He blinked. “What?”

“This was very helpful. We appreciate it.” She shook his hand. “But we have your DNA on file and you are under surveillance. You can go now, sir.”

He swallowed hard and gave a jerky nod before jogging away.

“That was… kind of you.” Aiden frowned. “So who is the guy in the picture?”

She pulled out her phone and began browsing. Something about this man rang a bell. A faint glimmer of recognition. She had spent a long time digging through Annabelle’s social media—Jackie didn’t have one and Amy’s was essentially just LinkedIn. As she began scrolling, she found an old post, dated fifteen years ago of them holding hands.

Ian Monroe.

“Ex-boyfriend,” Aiden declared. “She was hanging on to the picture of them. Hiding it in the drawer. That’s telling.”

“Something tells me this was the reason Annabelle and her husband were fighting.”

FORTY-NINE

PAST

The wind tapped at the windowpane again.

Tap. Tap.Not like a knock, more like a solid whisper.

Rachel sat on the edge of the bed in her old gray sweater. The one that hung off one shoulder. “Ready?”

Zoe nodded, curling her knees up her chest, her toes chilly in her socks.

Rachel turned a page, though she never looked down at the words. “Once upon a time,” she began, her voice low and dry, “there was a garden that grew in the middle of nowhere.”

Zoe swallowed. “Was it a happy garden?”

Rachel’s lips twitched, but she didn’t smile. “It used to be. There were flowers and fruit and little bluebirds that sang until the sky turned pink at night. But one day, a viper slithered into the garden. Not loud. Not fast. Just… there.”

Zoe pulled the blanket tighter.

“The viper was beautiful,” Rachel said, her voice almost haunting. “Emerald scales. Eyes like gold. It didn’t bite anyone, not at first. It just watched.”

Zoe’s throat ran dry. She decided then and there that she didn’t like snakes. “Did they chase it away?”

“No, because they thought it was lonely. They thought maybe it needed love. But vipers don’t want love. Vipers want silence. Vipers want obedience. Vipers want you to stop breathing.”

Zoe’s heart knocked against her ribs as she registered the almost wistful look on Rachel’s face.

She looked at her then. Her eyes were dark, tired. So tired they looked like they were full of rain.“Zoe, do you know what vipers do to the people who get close to them?”

She shook her head slowly. Even though she didn’t like being called Zoe. Her name was Emily. But Rachel had said she had a new name now. A better name.