The scream tore through the silence of the safehouse.
Marcus bolted upright on the couch, rushing to the partitioned area where “Elena” slept. She was sitting up in bed, gasping for air, her skin slick with sweat.
“Elena!” Marcus grabbed her shoulders. “I’ve got you. You’re safe.”
“I saw him,” she choked out, clutching Marcus’s shirt. “I saw a man. In the snow. He was screaming… he was screaming for me.”
She looked up at Marcus, her eyes wide with a terror that felt like a memory. “He had blue eyes. Intense, cold blue eyes. And I felt… I felt like I loved him.”
She grabbed Marcus’s face, searching for the truth he had been hiding for months.
“Marcus,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Was I married? Is there a husband out there looking for me?”
Marcus froze. The Wedding was weeks away. If he told her the truth now, he would lose her to William. If he lied, he would lose her trust forever.
“You hit your head in the accident,” Marcus said, choosing the path of the “Jailer”. “You were alone, Elena. You’ve always been alone.”
She collapsed against him, sobbing, but as Marcus held her, he felt the lie sitting like a stone in his chest.