Chapter 18 - Ethan's Question
Ethan did not cry.
That made it worse.
He sat on the edge of Hannah's bed at the estate and asked one question.
"Were they going to take me because I'm sick?"
Hannah knelt in front of him.
"No. They were going to try because they were bad people making a plan. They failed."
"Because of you?"
"Because a lot of people stopped them."
Ethan looked toward the hall where Nicholas waited in his wheelchair.
"Him too?"
Hannah nodded.
Ethan thought for a moment.
"He looks mean."
Nicholas answered from the doorway.
"I hear that often."
Ethan's eyes widened.
For the first time in days, Hannah laughed.
Nicholas rolled inside and placed a folded paper crane on the nightstand.
It was terrible.
One wing was enormous.
Ethan picked it up.
"You made this?"
"I was told crooked ones still work."
Ethan smiled.
Something in Nicholas's face softened.
Later that night, Hannah found him alone in the library.
He was trying to stand between two rails used for physical therapy.
His arms shook and his left leg barely responded.
"You're supposed to have someone with you," she said.
"I do now."
She stepped beside him.
"Again."
He pushed up.
For three seconds he stood.
Then four.
Then five.
When he sat, he was breathing hard but smiling.
"You are impossible," Hannah said.
"You keep saying that as if it discourages me."
She checked his pulse.
"The nerve damage may be permanent."
"I know."
"You may never walk normally again."
"I know."
"Then why are you smiling?"
Nicholas looked toward the paper crane Ethan had left on his desk.
"Because for the first time in eight months, what happens next belongs to me."
Hannah held his gaze.
Then Vincent entered.
"We found something in Carlo's accounts."
Nicholas sighed.
"Of course you did."
Vincent placed a photograph on the desk.
It showed the wreckage from Nicholas's crash.
May you like
Beside the destroyed car stood Walter Bell.
The timestamp was eleven minutes before police arrived.
