Fifteen
Luke opened his eyes and groggily looked around. He lay on the couch with his book lying open on his chest. The cabin was quiet, which meant that June and Ben hadn’t returned with Becky. He reached up to rub the sleep out of his eyes, then covered his face with his hands for a moment. The tension that had grown steadily in the week since the letter had arrived now tightened the muscles in his neck, shoulders, and back. There had been no other word from the man—who, if it was the same man Adam Winters remembered, called himself JP—and maybe Luke should have relaxed a little. No news was good news, right? But he couldn’t suppress the nagging worry that a man who had been fixated enough on June four years ago that Adam Winters would remember him like it was this morning would give up
