Page 95 of The Secrets of Jane: Reborn

He’s relying on me, though. They all are, whether they realize it or not.

I just wish I got to say a proper goodbye.

Quite a few hours earlier…

S O R E N

The jungle is disorienting, not made better by the foliage cancelling out so much of the sunlight. It reminds me of being so far beneath the ocean’s surface that it’s hard to tell which direction is up. No jungle has ever felt like this.

Something is wrong.

It breaks me to consider Iknowwhy this is wrong, even if I’m trying to avoid it.

Misery.

He seriously fucking took her, and he left a magic to disorient me. There’s only one set of tracks, and I know Jane’s heart. She didn’t go to him because she wanted to. Something forced her hand.

The realization cuts unrelentingly deeper than any blade.Don’t use magic; it makes it worse. It’s nearly impossible to obey that concept. My soul screams to unleash everything I have, to scorch this jungle to ash if it means finding her.

Focusing on the foliage around with my eyes and ears, deadening the well of magic in my chest, it helps lower whatever effect is placed upon me here. It’s all made fucking worse since my mind is one thread away from spiraling; he has Jane.

My sister and Jane have both been taken from me.

I move in the direction that I can weed out as the right one, to where Jane was, my magic never truly turning off, which might also be why this forest is so oppressive.

Trying to emanate my magic once more, just to test my theory, that pressure around my ribs returns—I stop, my gaze burning in the direction where I know I need to go, before moving again while trying to deaden a part of me that’s never been quieted before. It’s like pushing against hurricane winds; even breathing is strenuous.

The moment my boots hit the grass of a clearing, the pressure around me is so unbearable my vision spins. I collapse to one knee, gasping as though the jungle itself is choking me.

I can see the dirt is disturbed, and more than by animals. My fingers eagerly dust away at twigs, footprints made by boots. With squinting eyes, I look around until I see—no.

There’s a long, auburn piece of hair. I pick it up; the length is right.

Jane.

The scream that rips out of my throat is primal, raw, and utterly devoid of restraint, echoing through the jungle, the sound entirely made up ofrage.

They don’t know what they’ve done.

If Jane thought she wanted revenge, it’s nothing compared to what they’ve just unleashed in me.

Exitingthe clearing was the only option I had, given I could barely stand, and I needed people searchingnow. Tempest needs to be made aware, too, because how did Misery make it here? We barely set foot on this island.

This whole place needs to be on guard. Every person examined for being a traitor.

Ritter stands there, along with many more, including Bones and Basilisk.Anya is missing—the piece of my mask tells me just as much, and yet I didn’t see any ofhertracks, either.

“He took her,” I rasp, my voice hoarse. “I couldn’t do shit. The jungle affects my magic. Hard to focus. There’s a clearing; Jane’s hair was there. Many footprints. I don’t know how.”

Ritter doesn’t need more before he barks out to his people to follow in, his voice cutting through the air like a whip. Donna yells out at the rest to follow her as Ritter leans in before departing, “There’s a note. Left it in the shanty.”

I focus on nothing else, even moving through my people without addressing them as I near the shanty where I left Jane, the absolute void of the place making me want to rip the hearts out of anyone who aided in this. I shove the door open toscan the area for a note. Normally, I’d have felt that there was something waiting for me.

Eventhat’sgone.

There’s a piece of parchment with a scrawled note made with the hurried lines of someone who didn’t have time, next to her dagger—fuck.

‘What happens if I lose it?’