The rain fell harder as Adam paced along the edge of the docks, checking his phone every few seconds. The cold wind whipped through his jacket, but he barely felt it. All he could think about was Emily.
He had packed a small bag, just what he could grab in ten frantic minutes after her message. He kept replaying it in his head, He knows.
Mr. Johnson. The man who gave him everything. The man whose wife he had fallen for.
Adam’s chest tightened with guilt and fear. He looked down the dark, empty street again. “Come on, Emily,” he muttered. “Please.”
Minutes felt like hours. Every sound made him jump, the echo of footsteps, the crash of waves against the pier. His mind raced with thoughts of what might happen if she didn’t show.
And then he sa
