Freedom's Price, Love's Reward

g. Liam was still asleep, one a

of last night replayed in my mind, a confusin

. Jess was counting on me.

ul not to wake him. Each mo

g gear, my heart a he

s face, relaxed in sleep,

rder than I

to clear my head. Gone for a

risp, smelling of pine and damp earth. I walked for an ho

ottle, a map. I smashed my burner phone against a rock, en

eal. Staging

then turned and walked

shed a mile away. An old, beat-up car I' d bough

placed by jeans and a nondescript sweater. H

was

way, her eyes fixed

ce" hit the local media, then the national outlets, thanks to the Blackwood name. "Tra

nformation. It was a convincing performance. Or maybe i

ackwood, daughter of CEO Arthur Blackwood, reported

rf

g house in Aspen, Colorado, rented under

pounding with a mixture

led up. Jess stepped out,

, a wordless embrace

, her voice choked with em

oed, a grin spread

in the hearth. Groceries stocked. Jess had even hired a discreet ho

dom," Jess said,

We talked for hours, slept late, ate what we wanted, wore com

ything we'

I th