The nail finally gave way just after midnight.
Sarah had been working at it for hours.
Slowly.
Patiently.
Carefully.
Jay had fallen into a rhythm over the past few days. He paced outside at night. Checked the dock. Sat in the living area with a low lamp on. Sometimes she heard pages turning, like he was reading.
He liked routine.
Routine created openings.
The bent nail slid loose under her fingers, and the window shifted slightly more than before.
Cold air rushed in.
Her pulse exploded.
She froze, listening.
Nothing.
She pushed harder.
The wood creaked.
Too loud.
She winced and stopped.
Waited.
Still nothing.
She lifted the window another inch.
Enough to slip through if she angled her body carefully.
The drop outside wasn't far — maybe five feet to packed dirt.
She swung one leg over the frame.
Then—
The porch light flicked on.
Her breath caught in her throat.
Heavy footsteps.
Too fast.
The door to her room burst open before she could pull herself back inside.
Jay stood there.
For a split second, neither of them moved.
Then his eyes dropped to the open window.
The air changed.
"What," he said slowly, "are you doing?"
Her heart pounded violently.
"I just— I needed air."
His jaw tightened.
"I opened the window for you earlier."
"I couldn't sleep."
He crossed the room in three strides and grabbed her arm, pulling her back inside so hard she stumbled against the bed.
The window slammed shut.
"You were leaving."
"No—"
"Don't lie to me!"
His voice cracked with something darker now — not wounded love.
Rage.
He shoved her back onto the mattress.
"You promised you'd try."
"I never promised anything," she shot back before she could stop herself.
That was a mistake.
His hand struck her across the face harder than before.
Her vision blurred.
Before she could recover, he grabbed her wrists and forced them behind her back.
From his pocket, he pulled out a roll of black electrical tape.
Her stomach dropped.
"Jay, don't—"
He wrapped the tape tight around her wrists.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
It bit into her skin immediately.
"You don't get freedom," he said coldly. "You haven't earned it."
Her breathing came fast and shallow.
"You can't keep doing this."
"I can do whatever I want."
He leaned closer, his face inches from hers.
"You belong to me, Sarah. You always have."
Her stomach twisted.
"You don't get to decide that."
He grabbed her jaw roughly.
"I decide everything now."
The warmth in him was gone.
This was something else.
Something unhinged.
"You try that again," he said quietly, "and I won't be as patient."
He shoved her back against the bed and stood up.
Before leaving, he added softly:
"No one is coming for you."
The door locked behind him.
Sarah lay still for several seconds.
Then she rolled slowly onto her side and tested the tape.
Too tight.
But tape stretches.
And she was done underestimating him.
Branson Police Department
Brian stared at the internal database access logs on his computer.
It had taken him nearly an hour to find the right angle without triggering alerts.
He filtered searches related to Sarah Johnson.
Her name.
Her number.
Her address.
There were two recent lookups outside the active investigation log.
One was his own.
The other—
He didn't click immediately.
His pulse ticked up slightly.
The user ID was coded.
He leaned closer.
He couldn't access it without a formal request.
And a formal request would notify the system administrator.
And possibly Jack.
He sat back slowly.
Too soon.
He needed more before he made that move.
His office door creaked open.
Jack leaned against the frame.
"You look tense."
"Long night," Brian replied evenly.
"Still chasing ghosts?"
Brian held his gaze.
"I don't believe in ghosts."
Jack smiled faintly.
"Good. Because sometimes when you dig too hard… you find things you weren't meant to."
The words hung there.
Brian kept his expression neutral.
"You ever miss Carbondale?" he asked casually.
It was subtle.
Careful.
Jack's eyes sharpened for just a flicker.
"Why?"
"Just curious. Small department. Different pace."
Jack shrugged. "Didn't suit me."
"No?"
"No."
A beat of silence.
Then Jack stepped closer.
"You trust me, right?"
The question came out of nowhere.
Brian didn't hesitate.
"Of course."
Jack studied him a second longer.
Then nodded.
"Good."
And walked away.
Carbondale
Molly stared blankly at her open textbook.
The words blurred together.
She hadn't slept properly in days.
Her professors had started noticing.
Her grades were slipping.
Her friends whispered when she walked into class.
"Are you okay?" Claire asked quietly one evening.
"No," Molly admitted. "I'm not."
She hated being here.
Hated going to lectures while her sister could be—
She stopped that thought.
"I'm going back to Branson after the semester ends," she said firmly.
Claire looked surprised. "What are you going to do there?"
"Anything. Everything. I can't just sit here."
Her phone buzzed.
Brian.
Call me when you can.
Her heart tightened.
She stepped outside to answer.
"Did you find something?" she asked immediately.
"Not yet," he said carefully. "But we're not stopping."
We.
The word steadied her.
"I feel useless," she admitted.
"You're not," he said. "Everything you've given me matters."
She swallowed.
"I should be there."
"You being safe matters more."
There was something in his tone now.
Protective.
Personal.
"Are you sleeping?" he asked quietly.
She let out a weak laugh. "Not really."
"Try," he said. "We need you strong."
We again.
She closed her eyes briefly.
"I trust you," she said again.
This time it felt heavier.
And more dangerous.
Cabin – Later That Night
Sarah's wrists burned.
The tape cut into her skin.
But she had managed to create a small gap by twisting slowly, stretching it millimeter by millimeter.
Her cheek throbbed from where he hit her.
Her fear had shifted now.
It wasn't just about survival.
It was about endurance.
The door opened without warning.
Jay stepped inside again.
His expression was unreadable.
He walked to her slowly.
"You made me angry," he said.
"You're angry because you can't control me."
His hand shot out, gripping her upper arm hard enough to bruise.
"I control everything here."
He leaned down close to her face.
"You think someone's looking for you?"
Her heart pounded, but she held his gaze.
"Yes."
He laughed softly.
"Your sister?" he mocked. "She's probably back at school by now. Moving on."
Rage flared inside her.
"You're wrong."
He grabbed her chin again.
"You scream. You fight. You pretend you're stronger than you are."
His voice dropped low.
"But eventually… you'll understand."
He ran his thumb across her cheek where he'd struck her earlier.
A twisted gesture.
"You belong to me."
She jerked her head away.
"I will never belong to you."
For the first time—
Something dangerous flashed in his eyes.
Not obsession.
Not affection.
Something darker.
He stood up abruptly.
"Keep testing me."
And left.
Sarah lay there in the darkness.
Listening to the water.
Counting his footsteps.
Feeling the tape slowly give beneath her wrists.
He thought isolation broke people.
He was wrong.
It sharpened them.