Under covering fire, the leader escaped. I held my mother's body and sobbed until I couldn't breathe.

That was the first time I met Paul. He stood beside me, gently rubbing my back.

I've thought about it many times since. If he hadn't shown up with those officers that day, the three of us would probably be reunited by now.

"What's your name?"

"Jessica Pruitt."

He murmured, "Jessica."

"Jessica. Jessica, wake up."

I pried open my heavy eyelids. The man in front of me blurred and overlapped with the boy who had rubbed my back eight years ago.

But that boy was long dead.

I found out later that Paul had never been a police officer. The only reason he'd been there that day was because Eleanor had gone missing. The last place she'd been seen was near where I'd been held captive.

As for how they eventually found Eleanor, I never learned.

Paul's self-satisfied voice dragged me back to the present.

He was standing beside Eleanor, showing off. "See? I told you. My wife can't bear to leave me. All I had to do was call her name a couple of times and she came right back from the brink." He turned to Eleanor with a grin. "You lost the bet. You're cooking dinner tonight."

Eleanor pouted. "Come on, Paul, I'm still hurt, you know."

"Fine, fine, fine. I'll cook. Happy?"

They had actually made a bet over whether I'd survive. A woman who had one foot in the grave, and they'd turned it into a game. Pathetic. Revolting.

The reason I came back was because my parents' killer was still out there. It had nothing to do with Paul.

I pressed my cracked lips together and said nothing.

Paul continued, "Jessica, you hurt Ellie. And since I'm the one who pulled you back from death's door, let's call it even. Tell your friend to drop the lawsuit."

"Besides, Ellie was only looking out for you. She had no idea your health was that fragile. Just let it go."

I beckoned Paul over with a small wave.

He looked puzzled but leaned in anyway.

"Can you help me sit up?"

My soft, quiet voice landed in Paul's ears as agreement.

He turned back to Eleanor with a wink. "See? I knew my wife would be reasonable."

Paul propped me up, and while he was distracted, I grabbed the bowl of porridge sitting on the nightstand—left behind by who knows who—and dumped it straight over his head.

I let out a cold laugh. "In your dreams."

Paul's face twisted with fury. Meeting my defiant stare, his hand rose instinctively.

Slap!