“You ride with me. No hero nonsense. You do what I say.”
Mason nodded.
“No hero nonsense.”
Caleb Dunn muttered, “First time for everything.”
Mason ignored him.
The Pine Creek Motel sat less than a mile down the highway, half-hidden behind a gas station and a row of dying shrubs. Its sign flickered even in daylight. The parking lot was cracked, with puddles of old oil shining near the curb. Deputy Finch parked two spaces from room twelve.
Mason stayed behind him, exactly as instructed.
The deputy knocked.
“Sheriff’s office.”
No answer.
He knocked again.
“Rose Hart? Sheriff’s office. Your daughter is safe.”
Something inside the room moved.
Then a woman’s voice, weak and terrified, said, “Lily?”
Mason’s chest tightened so hard he almost could not breathe.
The door opened only a few inches at first.
A woman peered out.
Her hair was shorter than he remembered, darker at the roots, uncombed and tangled around her face. She looked thinner, older, and frightened in a way no one should have to be frightened. But her eyes were the same.
Rose.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Rose stared at Deputy Finch first.
Then past him.
Her gaze landed on Mason.
The world seemed to stop.
“Mason?” she whispered.
He could not answer.
All the years between them stood in his throat.
Then Lily pushed forward from behind him.
“Mommy!”
Rose opened the door fully and dropped to her knees.
Lily ran into her arms.
Rose held her daughter so tightly that both of them began crying at once. She kissed Lily’s hair, her forehead, her cheeks, whispering, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” while Lily clung to her neck.
Mason stood outside the room, one hand braced against the doorframe.
Rose looked up at him over Lily’s shoulder.
In her eyes, he saw relief first.
Then shock.
Then grief.
Then something he was afraid to name.
“You found him,” Rose whispered to Lily.
Lily nodded against her mother.
“I saw the wolf.”
Rose closed her eyes.
“Good girl.”
Deputy Finch cleared his throat gently.
“Ma’am, Darren Vale is in custody. We need to take your statement, and we need to get you and your daughter somewhere safe.”
Rose nodded, but her eyes kept returning to Mason.
Mason finally found his voice.
“Rose.”
She rose slowly, still holding Lily’s hand.
“You still wear it,” she said.
He knew she meant the wolf.
“I thought you were gone.”
“I was taken,” she said, voice barely steady. “Then trapped. Then ashamed. Then too afraid to reach out.”
Mason shook his head.
“No.”
“Yes,” she whispered. “And then Lily came, and everything became about keeping her safe.”
Mason looked at the child.
His hands trembled again.
“How old is she?”
Rose’s face crumpled.
“Nine.”
Nine.
The number hit him like a blow.