Chapter 15 - Where the River Bends
The place where the river bent was a public boat launch fifteen miles from the farm. We arrived before sunrise, with the sky still dark and the water covered in thin silver mist.
Nadia’s note said to come without Ethan. I had argued against following that instruction, but it was her only condition, and the meeting might be our only chance to find her.
Ethan waited in a parked vehicle beyond the trees, close enough to see the launch but far enough away to honor the request. Marcus sat with him.
I walked down to the dock alone.
A woman stood near the water with a hood pulled over her head. She held a paper cup between her hands. When she turned, I saw the crescent-shaped scar beside her right eyebrow.
“Nadia,” I said.
“Claire.”
For a moment, neither of us moved. I had imagined this meeting so many times after seeing the photograph that the reality felt almost unreal.
“You’re alive,” I said.
“Most days.”
Her attempt at a smile faded quickly. She looked past me toward the tree line. “You brought Graves?”
“He’s nearby, but I’m alone here.”
“That’s close enough.”
“I can make him leave.”
“No. If I wanted to disappear, you wouldn’t have found me.”
She looked tired in a way no amount of sleep could fix. Her hands trembled slightly, though the morning was mild.
“Why did you send the picture?” I asked.
“Because I heard you were at the farm. I saw the article about the veterans’ retreat. It was the first time I’d seen you in years.”
“You could have called.”
“I tried. Your number was disconnected. The office said you were retired. Then I found out your father had signed a document that turned my existence into a clerical inconvenience.” She lowered her voice. “I didn’t know whether you were part of it.”
“I wasn’t.”
“I know that now.”
Nadia had survived the collapse at Kunar with a broken leg and a head injury. A local family had hidden her until she could be moved, but when she reached a hospital, her identity had already been altered. The people handling her transfer insisted she was an unregistered civilian. When she tried to contact the unit, the calls were blocked.
“Who did that?” I asked.
“I never saw the person giving orders. I saw the name Warren Sloane on the papers. Later, a woman from his office told me I should be grateful I had a new life.”
Nadia looked at the river. “I wasn’t grateful. I was scared. So I kept quiet and changed states.”
“Why come back now?”
“Because someone has been asking about my medical file. Someone has been following me. I thought the people who buried my name had forgotten me. I was wrong.”
A truck appeared on the road beyond the boat launch. It slowed near the entrance.
Nadia flinched. I stepped between her and the vehicle. It continued past without turning in.
“You need protection,” I said.
“I need the truth in the right hands.”
“I can help with that.”
She shook her head. “You can help me decide what happens next. Don’t confuse that with taking charge.”
The words landed cleanly. She was not an unfinished mission. She was a person who had lost years to other people’s decisions.
I nodded. “Then you decide.”
She handed me the memory card. “The files are copies. There’s a recording, too. Sloane admitted the report was altered, but he didn’t say who ordered it.”
Before I could answer, my phone rang. Ethan.
“Claire, the sheriff found a car parked by the north fence at the farm,” he said. “The driver left a package on the porch.”
“What is it?”
“A photo of you and Nadia. Taken this morning.”
Nadia looked at me, understanding the danger before I could put it into words.
May you like
“They know we met,” I said.
Her face turned hard. “Then they’re done hiding.”
