The second night at the cabin, Sarah stopped crying.
That was the first decision she made.
Tears gave him power.
Fear fed him.
If she wanted to survive this, she had to shift the balance—even slightly.
Jay brought her dinner on a tray just after sunset. Soup. Bread. Water.
"You need your strength," he said gently.
"For what?" she asked.
He smiled faintly. "For us."
She forced herself not to react.
Instead, she softened her expression. Just a little.
"You didn't have to tie me up," she said quietly.
His eyes flickered.
"You tried to run."
"I was scared."
He studied her carefully, like she was a puzzle piece that didn't quite fit.
"You shouldn't be scared of me."
"I wouldn't be," she said carefully, "if you talked to me instead of… this."
She gestured lightly to the room.
Silence stretched between them.
He wanted to believe her.
She could see it.
That dangerous crack in his certainty.
"You always did this," he murmured.
"Did what?"
"Made me feel like the bad guy."
Her pulse steadied.
He needed validation.
Not resistance.
"I don't think you're the bad guy," she said softly. "I just think you went about this the wrong way."
His jaw tightened slightly.
But he didn't yell.
Didn't grab her.
He sat down across from her instead.
Progress.
"How long have you been planning this?" she asked gently.
He tilted his head. "Planning what?"
"Finding me."
A long pause.
"Long enough," he answered.
There it was again.
Long enough.
He stood up suddenly, as if catching himself revealing too much.
"You'll understand soon," he said. "Why did this have to happen?"
When he left the room, she didn't move for several minutes.
Her hands were free tonight.
That was new.
Trust?
Or test?
She glanced at the window again.
The bent nail.
Still there.
Still weak.
She would need time.
And precision.
Carbondale
Molly hadn't wanted to leave Branson.
It felt like abandoning her sister.
But there was nothing more she could do there except sit in a hotel room and imagine the worst.
So she went back to campus.
Back to Sarah's dorm room.
It felt wrong opening the door without her.
The room still smelled faintly of vanilla lotion and clean laundry. Sarah's bed was unmade. A sweatshirt was tossed over the chair.
Like she might walk in any minute.
Molly sat on the bed slowly.
"Where are you?" she whispered.
Then she began searching.
Drawers.
Notebooks.
Folders.
Boxes beneath the bed.
At first, nothing unusual.
Class notes.
Old receipts.
Makeup bags.
Then she found a small photo envelope tucked inside a textbook.
Her heart skipped.
Inside were printed photos.
Old ones.
From two years ago.
Sarah and Jay.
Except—
Jay's face was partially obscured in almost every picture.
In one, he wore a baseball cap low over his eyes.
In another, sunglasses.
In another, he turned slightly away from the camera.
At first, it looked casual.
Now it felt deliberate.
Why hide your face in personal photos?
Molly studied it carefully.
Sarah was smiling—but not fully.
Her eyes looked tense.
In the background of one photo was a familiar landmark.
A small-town park sign.
Carbondale.
Molly's stomach tightened.
She flipped the photo over.
Nothing written.
She reached for her phone and dialed Brian.
He answered on the second ring.
"Detective Dawson."
"It's Molly."
His voice softened slightly. "Are you okay?"
"I found photos," she said. "Of Sarah and Jay. But his face… it's like he didn't want to be seen."
There was a pause on the line.
"Can you send them to me?" he asked carefully.
"Yes."
"And Molly—" he added, "be careful who you show those to."
That struck her as odd.
"Why?"
"Just trust me."
Branson Police Department
Brian stared at the photos on his computer screen.
He zoomed in on one.
Hat.
Jawline.
Build.
Something about the posture tugged at him.
Familiar.
He leaned back slowly.
Jack had transferred from the Carbondale PD three years ago.
The timeline brushed uncomfortably close to Sarah's breakup.
Coincidence?
Maybe.
But Brian didn't believe in coincidences anymore.
He opened the internal personnel database.
Transfer request:
Jack Davis.
From: Carbondale PD
To: Branson PD
Reason: "Personal relocation."
Brian pulled up archived duty logs from Carbondale.
He wasn't technically authorized to dig this deep without cause.
But something told him this was cause.
He cross-referenced dates.
Sarah and Jay's relationship timeline—estimated from Molly's statements.
Jack's final months in Carbondale.
There were overlaps.
Too neat.
Too aligned.
Brian exhaled slowly.
No proof.
Just smoke.
And accusing a fellow detective without evidence would end his career.
Or worse.
His phone buzzed.
A message from Jack.
How's the Johnson case coming along?
Brian stared at the screen.
Why ask now?
He typed back evenly.
Still chasing digital leads.
Three dots appeared almost immediately.
Then disappeared.
Then appeared again.
Let me know if you need help.
Brian's jaw tightened slightly.
I already do, he thought.
I just can't ask you.
Cabin – Later
Sarah listened to the sound of Jay outside again.
Boots on gravel.
Metal clinking.
The dock is shifting slightly.
She waited.
Counted.
When she was certain he had stepped away, she moved toward the window.
Slowly.
Carefully.
She pressed her fingers against the bent nail.
It shifted slightly.
Not enough.
But it moved.
Her pulse quickened.
She stopped immediately when she heard footsteps return.
The door opened.
Jay stood there.
Watching her.
"You're restless," he observed.
"I'm bored," she replied evenly.
He stepped inside.
"You'll get used to it."
She held his gaze.
"I don't want to get used to it."
Something flickered behind his eyes.
Irritation.
Possessiveness.
Control.
"You don't have a choice," he said quietly.
For the first time since she'd been taken—
She believed him.
Back at the station, Brian pulled up one final file.
Old Carbondale arrest reports.
One name caught his attention.
Jay Turner.
No photo attached.
File sealed.
Requesting access would raise flags.
And if Jack saw the request—
The game would change.
Brian leaned back in his chair.
This was not a shut-and-close case.
This was something buried.
Something internal.
Something dangerous.
And if he was right—
The man he trusted with his life every day…
Might be the one holding Sarah captive.