Page 205 of Broken Bonds
She races down to Mal’s bedroom and goes inside.
I can’t help but follow. I want to see, and I’m drawn by his scent.
It looks more like a guest room, but I spot a few items that were likely his, like books. Standing in the doorway, I take a few pictures. Frey’s already inside the closet. She pulls out a small box, a little larger than a shoebox, and sets it on the bed. Then she retrieves two large suitcases from the closet.
That it all smells like Mal is nearly intoxicating to me. I move to help her carry them to the master bedroom, but she shakes her head and puts the biggest one on the bed, unzipping it.
Inside is a brown, stuffed bunny, around a foot long. It’s been well-loved, and that’s what she hands me.
Confused, I take it. It’s embedded with Mal’s scent, but I smell her on it, too, and wonder if she comes in here and cries, holding it, missing her son.
She goes to the dresser, and I start to say she doesn’t need to bring clothes for Mal, but I realize her clothes are in there. Practical clothes—jeans, T-shirts, underwear, bras, socks—nothing fancy. Those are what she packs.
She looks at me. “I don’t wear them around Sterling,” she says. “I wear them when he’s not home. They smell like Mal.” A dark glare crosses her face. “And they don’t smell like my husband.”
My heart breaks for her, and I wish to hell I could tell her the ring on my hand matches the one on Mal’s hand, but this was the deal. Morning doesn’t want to compromise security. She gets the full story only after she’s reunited with Mal.
“Can I help?” I ask.
She nods and points to the closet. There are two more suitcases in there. I pull them out for her. “Is there anything you need from the other room?”
She pauses. “I’ll grab a couple of pairs of shoes, but everything in this dresser goes.”
I open another drawer, and it’s full of photo albums and other memorabilia. Report cards, three large, zipper-top bags of assorted items I guess are Mal’s, and a small jewelry box.
I start packing, and after she fills the largest suitcase, I pick it up and set it by the bedroom door. I’ll be carrying this one for her. I notice she adds a few books from the shelves into one suitcase. As she packs, I reveal the next stage of the plan.
“Randolph can track my car,” she says. “It’s got one of those automatic things in it.”
“Does he usually track it?”
She thinks, then shakes her head.
“Please, hurry,” I say. She resumes packing while I move luggage to the base of the stairs, including the bunny. “How we doing?” I whisper to Morning on my way back up.
“Still clear. She sounds committed.”
“Hope so.”
Twenty minutes later, Freya’s completely packed and going through the master bedroom and bathroom for anything she missed. Other than a couple of items and a practical jacket, she took hardly anything from the master closet. She starts to pack a laptop from another upstairs room that’s a home office, but pauses and looks at me, her meaning clear.
“Is it powered off?” I ask.
“Yes.”
I pull the large, folded Faraday bag out of the pocket in the tablet case and hand it to her. “Computer, tablet—anything electronic that connects to the internet, except your regular phone.”
That done, I add it to the pile.
After one final sweep, she looks around. “Anything downstairs to take?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “He made me take down all pictures of Mal. Those were in the dresser. I took them out of the frames. I don’t want anything else.”
“Okay.” I turn to head out with the last load of luggage, but she touches my arm. “At this point, I don’t even care if you kill me. I’ve fantasized about leaving for years.” She swallows. “Please lie to me if Mal’s dead and this is a trick. Just let me have that, please? I want to believe he’s safe and happy.”
I pause, gently resting my hands on her shoulders. “Close your eyes and inhale.”
She does, tears squeezing past her eyelids. I realize she’s not wearing makeup.
