Emma's POV
"Drive faster!" I scream at Nathan as we race toward the woods.
The sun is already dropping toward the horizon. We have maybe three hours before sunset. Three hours to find an old treehouse hidden deep in the forest. Three hours to save Lily.
Nathan's knuckles are white on the steering wheel. "Cooper is sending undercover units. They'll stay hidden until—"
"Until what? Until whoever has Lily sees them and slits her throat?" My voice breaks. "We should have gone straight there. We're wasting time!"
"Emma, look at me." Nathan's voice cuts through my panic. "Take a breath. We're going to find her. But you need to stay focused."
I force air into my lungs, but it doesn't help. Every second that passes is another second Lily is terrified and alone with a kidnapper. My baby is out there somewhere, crying for me, and I'm not there to protect her.
Just like I wasn't there for Sophie.
"This is my fault," I whisper. "All of it. If I hadn't ignored Sophie that summer, if I'd listened when she said she was in trouble—"
"Stop." Nathan reaches over and grabs my hand. "Sophie's death wasn't your fault. You were a college student three hundred miles away. You couldn't have known."
"But I should have known. She called me scared, and I was too busy with Ryan to care."
"That's what abusers do—they isolate you from everyone who might help you see the truth. Ryan wanted you dependent on him alone. That's not your fault."
I want to believe him. But the guilt has lived in my chest for eight years, heavy and constant like a stone.
We turn onto the dirt road leading to Camp Hollow. The old wooden sign is faded and broken. The camp closed down six years ago after Sophie's death—parents didn't want to send their kids somewhere a girl had drowned.
Nathan parks at the abandoned main building. "The treehouse is about two miles into the woods, right?"
"Northeast from here. Past the creek, through the clearing with the big rocks." The path comes back to me like muscle memory. How many times did Sophie, Nathan, and I run through these woods, laughing and free?
"Emma, before we go..." Nathan turns to face me fully. "I need you to promise me something. If this goes bad—if it looks like they're going to hurt you or Lily—you run. You get her and you run, and you don't look back."
"I'm not leaving without both of you."
"I'm serious. If it comes down to a choice between saving me or saving Lily, you choose her. Every time. Promise me."
"Nathan—"
"Promise me!"
"Fine! I promise!" Tears blur my vision. "But you better not make me choose. You just came back into my life. I can't lose you again."
Something shifts in Nathan's expression—pain and hope and longing all mixed together. For one moment, I think he's going to kiss me. Instead, he brushes a tear from my cheek with his thumb.
"Ten years ago, when you ghosted me, it nearly destroyed me," he says quietly. "But I understood why you had to leave. Ryan was poisoning you against everyone who cared about you. I just wish I'd fought harder for you."
"You couldn't have known—"
"I should have. I knew Ryan was controlling. I saw the warning signs. But I told myself you were an adult making your own choices. I let you go when I should have held on tighter."
"Nathan, none of this is your fault."
"Isn't it? If I'd been braver ten years ago, maybe Sophie would still be alive. Maybe Lily wouldn't be in danger right now."
I grab his face in both hands, forcing him to look at me. "Listen to me. Ryan destroyed both of us in different ways. He's probably the reason Sophie died too. But we're not victims anymore. We're survivors. And survivors fight back."
Nathan's eyes search mine. "When did you get so strong?"
"When someone threatened my daughter." I drop my hands and reach for the door handle. "Now let's go get her back."
We move quickly through the forest, following the path I remember from childhood. The afternoon sun filters through the trees in golden beams. Under different circumstances, it would be beautiful.
Now it just feels like a countdown clock.
As we cross the creek, Nathan suddenly grabs my arm. "Wait. Listen."
I freeze. At first, I hear nothing but birds and wind. Then—voices. Low and urgent, coming from somewhere ahead.
We creep forward silently. Through the trees, I can see the clearing with the big rocks. Two figures stand there, arguing.
My heart stops.
One is a woman with long blonde hair. From this distance, she looks exactly like Sophie.
The other is a man in an expensive suit.
Ryan.
"This wasn't the plan!" Ryan hisses at the woman. "You were supposed to drive her crazy, not kidnap the kid!"
"Plans change," the woman says, and her voice makes my blood freeze. It sounds like Sophie. Exactly like Sophie. "Emma's stronger than you thought. She called Nathan for help. We need leverage."
"If anything happens to Lily, I'll—"
"You'll what?" The woman laughs coldly. "You're in this as deep as I am, Ryan. Deeper, actually. I'm just the hired help. You're the one who's been gaslighting your ex-wife for eight years."
Nathan's grip on my arm tightens. He pulls out his phone to text Detective Cooper, but I shake my head. Not yet. I need to hear more.
"Where is the kid?" Ryan demands.
"Somewhere safe. Somewhere Emma will never find her unless she does exactly what I say."
"Which is what, exactly?"
The woman turns, and I finally see her face clearly.
It's not Sophie.
It's someone who looks almost exactly like her, but younger. The face is similar but not identical. Sophie's little sister—the one we hardly ever saw because she lived with her dad in another state.
Grace.
"Emma needs to confess," Grace says. "The truth about what she did to Sophie. And then she needs to disappear, just like Sophie did. That's the only way this ends."
"I told you, Emma wasn't there that night!" Ryan's voice rises with frustration. "I fabricated that memory. She was at college."
"I know she wasn't there." Grace's smile is cruel. "But Emma doesn't know that for sure anymore, does she? You've spent years making her doubt her own mind. Now she'll confess to anything to save her daughter. And once she confesses to murder on camera, you get full custody, I get my revenge, and Emma spends the rest of her life in prison for a crime she didn't commit."
"Revenge for what?" Ryan asks. "What did Emma ever do to you?"
"She existed!" Grace's voice cracks with emotion. "Sophie talked about Emma constantly. Emma this, Emma that. Her perfect best friend who got into a great college, who had Nathan wrapped around her finger, who had everything handed to her. Meanwhile, I was invisible. Sophie barely acknowledged I existed."
"So this is about jealousy?"
"This is about justice. Sophie died because of Emma's selfishness. If Emma had answered Sophie's calls that night, if she'd cared about anyone besides herself and her new boyfriend, Sophie would have had someone to turn to. Someone who could have helped her."
My chest tightens. The guilt I've carried for eight years wasn't wrong—I did fail Sophie. Not in the way Ryan made me believe, but I still failed her when she needed me most.
Nathan must sense my spiraling thoughts because he squeezes my hand. His eyes tell me: Not your fault. Don't believe her lies.
"Where's the kid?" Ryan asks again. "We need to call this off before it gets out of hand."
"It's already out of hand. The moment you brought me into this, you sealed Emma's fate." Grace pulls out her phone. "I'm texting her now. Telling her where to meet us. And Ryan? When this is over, you better pay me the rest of what you owe. Or the next video I release will be of you admitting you fabricated evidence against your ex-wife."
She's blackmailing him. Ryan's face goes pale.
"You never planned to just scare Emma, did you?" Ryan's voice is barely a whisper. "You're going to kill her."
Grace's smile is answer enough.
Nathan's already texting Cooper: Subject is Grace Bennett, Sophie's sister. Armed and dangerous. Ryan Sullivan is here too. They have the child's location. Moving in now.
But before Cooper can respond, my phone buzzes.
Grace must have heard it because her head snaps in our direction. "Someone's here. In the trees."
Ryan spins around, scanning the forest.
Nathan and I drop flat to the ground behind a fallen log, not breathing.
"Probably just an animal," Ryan says nervously.
"Or Emma came early." Grace pulls something from her jacket. A gun. "If it's her, this ends now."
She starts walking toward our hiding spot.
Nathan and I look at each other. We're completely exposed. If Grace finds us, she'll shoot first and ask questions later.
My phone buzzes again. I can't ignore it—the sound will give us away.
I pull it out with shaking hands.
A text from an unknown number: Wrong clearing. Wrong treehouse. Did you really think I'd make it that easy? While you're playing detective with Ryan and his hired actress, your real daughter is with me. The REAL me. And Emma? I'm running out of patience. You have one hour to get to the actual treehouse. The one we built when we were fifteen, not thirteen. Or Lily pays for your mistakes. —Sophie
My hands shake so hard I almost drop the phone.
There were two treehouses. I'd completely forgotten.
We built the first one at thirteen, but it fell apart in a storm. So at fifteen, we built a second one, deeper in the woods, stronger and better hidden. That's our real secret place.
Which means Grace and Ryan are decoys. Someone else has Lily.
Someone who knows details only Sophie would know.
I show Nathan the message. His face goes white.
"The second treehouse," I whisper. "Three miles west. We have to go. Now."
But Grace is ten feet away and getting closer, gun raised.
We're trapped between a hired actress who wants to kill me and whoever—whatever—has my daughter in the real treehouse.
Nathan mouths: Run. On three.
He holds up one finger. Two. Three—
A gunshot cracks through the forest.
But it didn't come from Grace's gun.
It came from somewhere behind us.
Grace screams and hits the ground. Ryan ducks behind a rock.
Someone else is in these woods. Someone with a gun. Someone who just saved our lives.
Or someone who wants us for themselves.
"RUN!" Nathan yanks me to my feet.
We sprint through the trees, branches whipping our faces, the sound of shouting and more gunshots behind us.
I don't know who's shooting. I don't know who to trust. I don't know if we're running toward safety or toward something worse.
All I know is my daughter is waiting for me in a treehouse three miles away, and I'll burn this entire forest down if that's what it takes to reach her.
We burst out of the trees into a small clearing. I stop to catch my breath, trying to remember which direction to go.
That's when I see her.
Standing at the edge of the clearing, backlit by the setting sun.
Long blonde hair. Blue jacket. That familiar smile.
Sophie Bennett.
Dead for eight years.
Alive and staring right at me.
"Hello, Emma," she says softly. "It's been a long time. Ready to finally tell me the truth about the night you let me die?"