Page 81 of The Thinnest Air

Day Ten

“There it is.” I unbuckle my seat belt and point across the dash, my mouth running dry at the sight of the little dark cabin nestled in a thicket of green. It’s unnerving now, sitting here all by itself. The pond to the north is dark and daunting, and the sky is beginning to dim.

Ronan pulls off the road and follows a set of tire tracks worn into the grass and covered in pea gravel.

The closer we get, the more I see the hint of light shining through one of the windows, the kitchen perhaps?

As badly as I want my sister to be in there, I almost hope she isn’t. If she’s hiding in that cabin, willingly tucked away with Harris ... it’ll kill me. It’ll break my heart in two.

“What now?” I ask when Ronan slows to a stop. He doesn’t stop the engine; he just sits in silence, staring at the house, maybe contemplating his entrance strategy.

“Wait here,” he says.

“I’m not waiting here.” I reach for the door handle, but he places his hand across my lap.

“It’s safer if you do.” He removes his seat belt and slides out, keeping the noise to a minimum. Retrieving his concealed gun, he clasps both hands around it and keeps it trained on the door of the cabin as he treks through an overgrown lawn and over a stone path sidewalk.

Maybe the gun is overkill.

I don’t even think Harris has held a gun in his life. If he’s hiding out on the other side of the door, the harshest weapon in his arsenal would probably be an old can of pepper spray.

Then again, anything is possible, and if Harris did run off with my sister, that means I don’t know him like I thought I did.

Chewing my thumbnail, I cross my legs, my ankle bouncing as I watch him try the door. It’s locked. Of course.

He moves around the cabin, checking windows and disappearing behind the building for a heart-stopping minute. When he reappears, he returns to the front door.

One hard kick is all it takes. The door swings open. Ronan disappears inside.

My heart races. I can’t sit still, can’t breathe.

I imagine him carrying her out, bringing her to the car, peeling out of the weedy driveway and careening to the nearest hospital.

Only he emerges a short time later, holstering his sidearm and keeping his gaze low. When he climbs back into the car, he exhales.

“She’s not in there.” I state the obvious.

“Nope.” He shifts into reverse. “By the looks of it, no one’s been there in a long time. At least from what I could tell. Light’s probably left on to make it look like someone lives here.”

Sinking back into my seat, I bite my trembling lip and blink away the mist clouding my vision.

I will not cry.

Crying won’t find my sister.

The hotel air conditioner hums way too loud, and I’m halfway to becoming a human ice cube, but I’m too exhausted to get up and do anything about it.

The flight back to Utah leaves first thing in the morning. I’m not sure where I’ll be staying when I get back. Ronan hasn’t offered, and I haven’t asked, but I’m not beneath groveling to Andrew.

Lifting my phone, I swallow my pride and call my brother-in-law.

“Greer,” he answers on the third ring, his tone indifferent.

“Hi.” I’m defeated, desperate, and too tired to pretend I’m anything but. “Look, I’m sorry about the way I’ve been treating you.”

“I shouldn’t have kicked you out,” he says next, his tone softening.

My entire speech flies out the window. Andrew’s never apologized for anything, ever. At least not to me.