Total pages in book: 192
Estimated words: 189782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 949(@200wpm)___ 759(@250wpm)___ 633(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 189782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 949(@200wpm)___ 759(@250wpm)___ 633(@300wpm)
But we’ve only been out of the hospital for three days. We haven’t left the privacy and security of the island.
Time will tell.
When Monty returns, his eyes probe, searching for something in our expressions, trying to read us like he knows we were talking about him.
I keep my face neutral.
“How did the interviews go?” He reclines in the chair.
“As expected.” I roll my neck, ready to put the past few days behind me. “I stayed with the narrative. Didn’t give away anything that would cause suspicion.”
“Same.” Leo nods. “They had a lot of questions about our family dynamic. How happy we must be to have finally found each other.”
“Are you?” Monty smirks.
“Thrilled,” Leo deadpans.
“How did you handle those questions?” I ask.
“I played along.”
I make a noise in my throat. “So basically, you showed your teeth and said nothing.”
“Pretty much.” He props a boot on the coffee table. “Did you tell them how much you love your new big brother?”
“Kept that to myself.” I stare into Monty’s eyes, the depths as blue as a cold sea, reflecting no warmth or invitation. “They asked about the reunited couple. I didn’t comment, letting them believe the marriage is still intact.”
“Good.” His jaw twitches. “No one cares about a perfect marriage. It makes a boring news story. They won’t spend any time on it.”
“You know,” I say, my voice dropping, “all that will change when we start going out in public. I won’t hide my relationship with her, nor will Leo.”
“Discretion is the goal here. The story we created is delicate. We don’t want to give them anything to squawk about.”
“I understand the need for caution. But I won’t pretend forever.”
“We all want what’s best for Frankie.” Leo taps his fingers on his leg. “We just need to find a balance between protecting her and being honest about our relationships.”
“We need to stay united on this,” Monty says. “No surprises.”
The distrust lingers on both sides like a shadow that doesn’t fade. But we need to push through it. We have no choice.
I take a deep breath, forcing the next words. “Thanks for sending the message about her panic attack.”
Monty nods, his expression guarded. “How are you doing with the tech? Any trouble with the phones?”
“It’s been harder than I care to admit,” I say. “I never thought I’d be struggling with something as simple as making a call or sending a text.”
“Actually, I have a question.” Leo pulls out his device. “I was trying to look up something earlier but couldn’t figure out how to switch between the screens.”
“The browser tabs?” Monty scoots forward on the chair, gesturing at the empty spot on the couch. “May I?”
Leo makes room for him and hands over his phone.
After a few swipes on the screen, Monty passes it back. “See this icon here? Yeah. Tap that. Now you see all your open tabs. You can switch between them or close the ones you don’t need.”
That prompts a string of more questions, which leads to a full-on tutorial. I find myself pulling out my phone and following along.
Frankie showed us the basics of what these little electronic bricks can do, but we’ve only scratched the surface. I’m starving for more knowledge.
All I’ve ever known was a life of solitude and silence, broken only by the howl of the wind and the crunch of snow underfoot. Denver raised us to be tough, to rely on nothing and no one but ourselves.
Now I find myself on this lush, green island with comforts I never thought possible. The biggest change, the one that thrills me the most, is the technology. I went from no Internet or outside communication to holding all this power in a tiny computer that fits in the palm of my hand.
This phone opens up worlds I never knew existed. I can connect with Leo and Frankie anywhere, at any time.
The first time I browsed the Internet, it felt like magic. Information at my fingertips, answers to questions I didn’t even know I had. I can spend hours wending through the dark forest of videos about everything and nothing at all, diving into the endless sea of knowledge and entertainment.
Of course, I have my share of frustrations. The sheer volume of information overwhelms me quickly. When the constant connectivity is too much, I long for the simplicity of the tundra.
Then I remember the loneliness, the abuse, the endless hardship, and yeah…
Fuck that place.
The climate here is milder, the air saturated with the scent of saltwater and evergreen. Bustling towns wait nearby, with people and noise and activity. I can’t wait to explore them.
I also dread leaving the safety of the island. Without my crossbow or a grasp on the dangers out there, I don’t know how to protect her the way I could in the hills.
As the night wears on, the strain between Monty and us eases, if only for a short while. I find myself glancing at the time on my phone, the minutes ticking by with agonizing slowness.