Jackson’s phone rang in the middle of the night. The number wasn’t one he recognized, but when he picked up and heard Greg’s voice, he realized it was coming from the front desk at the police station.
The second Greg asked for help, Jackson knew exactly what kind of trouble he was in.
People only end up in situations like this when they refuse to listen. No one’s immune.
Up at Cloud Peak, Patricia stood in her study, wrapped in soft, plain pajamas. Her long hair fell neatly down her back, catching the gentle glow from the overhead light and wrapping her in a warm, quiet aura.
Jackson’s voice came through the phone. “Greg called. Says someone’s after him. He ducked into a police station to hide—he’s there now.”
Patricia’s gaze moved over the rows of German books on her shelf. For a moment, she looked almost distracted. “Let him wait,” she said, calm and unhurried.
“He needs to sweat a little.”
“Theo just got back. He’s way too careful to leave evidence this soon. He won’t kill Greg.”
“Keep an eye on things. Tell me where Greg ends up.”
Jackson hesitated. “So… we’re not stepping in yet?”
“Exactly.” Patricia pulled a book from the shelf, set it on her desk, and flipped it open. “Some people, if you rescue them too early, think it’s just luck. They don’t appreciate it. But if you let them fall all the way—and then pull them out—they’ll never forget who saved them.”
Jackson nodded. He understood.
Greg was exactly that type. Three years ago, he’d agreed to do Kelly’s dirty work for a little money. He probably hadn’t changed much since.
When the call ended, Patricia absentmindedly turned the pages of the German novel on her desk.
The Magic Mountain. A classic.
She’d barely made it halfway through a page when there was a quiet knock at the door.
She looked up. Oliver was standing there. “Not coming to bed?”
“In a minute.”
She closed the book and started toward the bedroom. As she walked past him, he glanced at the book she’d left on the desk.

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