The climb out is awkward. I have to stand on the window ledge and stretch all the way over to the right to grab onto thedrainpipe. My fingertips hook around the frame of the window, but I can feel them slipping. I grip on so hard that pain twinges my forearm and my right hand latches around the drainpipe only seconds before I lose my grip. My body swings outwards like a barn door and I grunt as my side hits the wall.
I slide a little ways down the drainpipe before I secure my hold and brace my feet against the clapboard. By the time I get to the bottom, my heart is racing a mile a minute and sweat coats my skin.
I take one last look at the house I’ve started calling home. If I go now, that’s it. They’ll never forgive me. But I’d rather be sitting in a prison cell with Oz alive, than be the reason River, Jude and Eli lose a brother.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Jude
I CAN’T BREATHE. The adrenaline has chased off any positive effects of my meds and my hand jitters relentlessly against the wall.
The techs have arrived and I’m doing my best not to glare at them, but I don’t like them here. In our space. Collecting evidence. Taking pictures.
River keeps glancing at me, caution in his eyes. He knows I’m spiraling but he doesn’t have the time to coddle me right now.
I need to pull it together. For Oz.
I’ve never been that close with my brother. When I was younger, I used to imagine what it would be like to have a sibling I could play with, talk to, anything to make the stifling formality of home that much more bearable.
My parents set my brother and I against each other as soon as we could walk. Everything was always too much of a competition for us to have any sort of healthy relationship but the day I met Oz it was like we’d known each other since birth. And I’m terrified.
We found traces of some sort of powder in the bottom of one of the coffee cups. The techs are testing it now, but I know what they’re going to say; Oz was drugged and kidnapped.
I hit the soft side of my fist against the wall. I want to tear the whole county apart looking for him, but I know mindless searching isn’t going to help anything. We need to work the case.
River’s taken charge, shelling out orders and burying his emotions like he always does. Eli’s snapping at anybody that does the slightest thing wrong. We’re all falling apart, and it takes me far too long to realize Freya hasn’t come back downstairs.
She’s probably just trying to stay out of the way, but the second I notice she’s gone, it becomes unbearable to have her out of my sight.
I signal to River that I’m going to check on her then head to the stairs. When Freya is upset, she hides. Or runs. I’ve learnt this about her. She’s used to dealing with everything by herself but she’s part of a team now and she needs to understand she’s not alone anymore.
I rap my knuckles against her door. “Freya? Can I come in?”
I’m patient for about ten seconds before I open the door and I realize my mistake.
I didn’t think my heart could beat any harder. I didn’t think I could feel worse than I did when I learned Oz was missing. I just plaindidn’t think.
If I had I would have cuffed Freya to my wrist to make sure she couldn’t ever leave my side. I wouldn’t have been so caught up in my own thoughts that I didn’t notice her panicking. I would have realized finding Oz gone would make her do something stupid.
But I didn’t. And now her window’s open and her tracking anklet is sitting on her bed like a heart-rending goodbye.
“River!” I yell. “River, get up here now!” I keep shouting for him till my voice is raw and River and Eli’s footsteps are pounding down the hall.
“What the fuck is it?” Eli demands.
I turn to them, Freya’s anklet hanging from my fingers. The note she wrote crumpled in my fist.
River turns to stone. “That’s not possible.”
“We underestimated her. This can’t be a coincidence,” Eli says, walking over to the open window. “What if she had something to–”
“No,” I cut him off. I don’t care how bad it looks that she’s run, Freya would never do anything to hurt Oz.
“Why now then? Why did she run,now?”
River kicks the bed.
I jump, my eyes darting his way. Normally, River’s anger is a quiet, controlled thing, but right now he looks like he could throttle someone.
