CHAPTER 18: The Man Who Lived
(Betty's POV)
"You are not alone, Betty. Not anymore."
His words stay with me long after he leaves the room.
I sit on my bed. The morning light is gray. The house is quiet.
I can hear him in the kitchen. Moving slow. Careful.
He is making coffee.
I stand up. I walk to the door. I open it.
He is at the counter. Two mugs. Black for me. Black for him.
He does not turn around.
"You did not sleep," I say.
"No."
"Because of me?"
He turns. His dark eyes meet mine.
"Because of the car outside. And the men who were watching. And the blood on my shirt."
I walk to the kitchen. I stand beside him.
He hands me a mug.
I take it.
Our fingers do not touch.
"I have a question," I say.
He looks at me.
"I can see it in your eyes," he says. "Ask."
I hesitate.
The words are on my tongue. Heavy. Dangerous.
"The man at the hospital," I say. "The one you killed. The one who survived."
He goes still.
His hand tightens around his mug.
"What about him?"
"Who was he?"
He is quiet.
The silence stretches. Long. Uncomfortable.
"Why do you want to know?" he asks.
"Because I keep thinking about him. About that night. About you standing in the hallway."
He sets his mug down.
"I was not standing in the hallway because of him."
"Then why?"
He looks at me.
"That is a different question. For a different day."
I feel frustration rise in my chest.
"You always do that."
"Do what?"
"Answer a question with something that is not an answer."
He takes a step closer.
"Because some answers change things. And I am not ready for things to change."
"Things are already changing."
"Not that thing."
I stare at him.
He stares at me.
The kitchen is silent. The only sound is our breathing.
"Who was he?" I ask again.
Adrain looks away.
He walks to the window. He looks out at the street.
"His name was Victor Dane," he says.
My heart skips.
"Victor Dane? The businessman?"
"Yes."
"The one the news said you killed?"
"Yes."
I step closer.
"But you did not kill him."
"No."
"Then who did?"
He turns to face me.
"No one."
I frown.
"What do you mean no one?"
He walks back to the kitchen. He leans against the counter. His arms are crossed.
"Victor Dane faked his death," he says. "He paid people to make it look like a murder. And someone paid them to make sure I was the one blamed."
My head spins.
"Who would do that?"
"I do not know yet."
"Then how do you know Victor is alive?"
He looks at me.
"Because I saw him. Three months ago. In a private hospital outside the city."
My blood runs cold.
"You saw him?"
"I followed someone there. Someone who knew the truth."
"Who?"
He shakes his head.
"Not yet."
I grab his arm.
"Adrain. Who?"
He looks down at my hand. Then at my face.
"Someone who is connected to all of this. Someone who wants me to take the fall. Someone who is very close to the Reed family."
The Reed family.
The name hits me like a wave.
Reed.
Linda Reed.
My patient. The woman who collapsed. The woman who kept calling out a name in her sleep.
Adrian.
She was calling for Adrian.
My stomach turns.
"Reed," I whisper.
Adrain looks at me.
"You know that name?"
"I have a patient. Linda Reed. I treated her months ago."
He goes still.
"Linda Reed?"
"Yes. She is married to Jake Reed. The businessman."
Adrain's face is unreadable.
"Why does that matter?" I ask.
He does not answer.
"Adrain."
"I do not know yet," he says. "But I am going to find out."
He walks to the window.
He looks out at the street.
I watch him.
My mind is racing.
Linda Reed. The lost son. The name she kept calling.
Adrian.
Adrain.
Same name.
Same eyes.
No.
It is impossible.
I push the thought away.
But the question stays.
The question I am too afraid to ask.
"Why did you follow someone to that hospital?" I say instead.
He does not turn around.
"Because I needed to know the truth."
"About Victor Dane?"
"About everything."
He turns to face me.
His dark eyes. His pale face. His scarred hands.
"I have been running my whole life, Betty. I am tired of running."
I look at him.
"Then stop."
He walks toward me.
He stops in front of me.
"I am trying," he says. "But every time I stop, someone tries to kill me."
"Then do not stop. Just hide."
"I am tired of hiding too."
He reaches out. His hand touches my face.
"With you," he says. "I am not hiding. I am just... here."
I lean into his touch.
Just for a second.
Then I pull away.
"I need to think," I say.
I walk to my room.
I close the door.
I sit on my bed.
My head is spinning.
Victor Dane is alive.
Adrain is innocent.
Someone connected to the Reeds wants him destroyed.
And Linda Reed's lost son is named Adrian.
Same name.
Same eyes.
I lie down.
I stare at the ceiling.
The question sits in my chest.
Heavy. Impossible.
But it will not go away.