AUTHORS POV

Tessa awoke before dawn to an ache in her stomach deeper than hunger.

Her blankets, coarse and scruffy, did nothing to warm her chilled banded limbs.

She lay perfectly still, listening to the settling of the wooden cabin around her, and a terrible thought crept into her mind: where were George’s passports and the burner phone?

She sat up slowly, heart pounding, and swung her legs over the side of the narrow cot. The world felt hazy, every movement slo-mo as she fumbled for the small envelope she’d tucked into her robe on the night of her escape. It wasn’t there. She patted the inside pocket—nothing. She searched...