Page 53 of Whispers in the Dark
“Where are you?” he asked.
She hesitated. That hesitation stung.
“We’re on our way to Sioux Falls,” she said eventually. “To the penitentiary.”
His stomach dropped. “You’re going to see Ward?”
“Yeah.”
“Jesus, Charlotte.” He exhaled hard, trying to swallow down the frustration. “You didn’t think maybe I should know about that before you drive across the state with a ghost from your past?”
“I didn’t want to drag you into it.”
“I’m already in it!” he snapped, louder than he meant to. He lowered his voice. “You brought this to me. Someone called your house to speak to me. Left a man on your porch. Left you a Polaroid from a thirty-year-old case. This isn’t just your problem anymore.”
“I know that.” Her voice was tight. Tired.
Alex ran a hand through his hair, pacing again. He stopped by the kitchen window, watching Bailey lying in the yard like it was any other morning. But nothing about this felt normal.
“You trust him more than me?” he asked before he could stop himself.
“It's not about trust, Alex.”
“It feels like it.”
She went quiet again. That silence said too much.
Alex pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn’t want to push her. Didn’t want to be that guy. But, goddammit, she’d walked out without a word. He wasn’t just her boyfriend—he was standing in the blast zone of her past, and she hadn’t even warned him.
“I’m not mad that you went to him,” he said finally. “I’m mad that you went without telling me. That you left me waking up thinking someone had taken you. Or worse.”
Charlotte’s voice dropped low. “I didn’t want you to feel like I was choosing him over you.”
“But you did.” And that truth hung between them, raw and real.
“I need you to let me in, Char,” he added, quieter now. “Not just when things are safe. Not just when it’s over. I can’t be the guy who gets what’s left after you’ve handled it all alone.”
There was a pause before, “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“I’ll call you after we see him. And I’ll tell you everything.”
Alex nodded slowly, even though she couldn’t see him. “Good.” A beat. “I love you, you know,” he said. “Even when I want to throttle you.”
She let out a small laugh. “I know.”
The line went quiet. And even though the call ended, the tension didn’t leave him. He stared at the phone in his hand, knowing something had just shifted. The question now was whether they’d still be standing when the dust settled.
Seventeen
The road stretched out ahead,long and empty. Miles of nothing but frost-rimmed fields and low, broken fences. The prison was still twenty minutes out, but Charlotte could already feel it looming.
Beside her, Graham had gone quiet—thinking. She knew the way he turned things over in his mind. Had seen it for years. The silence wasn’t aimless. It was sharpening. She waited, kept her eyes on the road, pretending she didn’t feel the pressure building in the cab.
Finally, his voice cut through. “Are you in love with Marcel?”
She didn’t flinch. But she didn’t answer right away either. Just kept her hands steady on the wheel, eyes locked forward. “Yes,” she said at last.
