Chapter 5

Alan's POV Alan was at a New Year's Eve gala when Mrs. Lee called. Her voice was tearful, ambulance sirens wailing in the background. "Alan! Come quick! Jane... she collapsed in the cellar of the old house!" His grip on the wineglass tightened; red wine splashed onto his white shirt like blooming blood. He waved away the tissue Anna offered, grabbing his coat and rushing out without explanation. When the cellar door was pried open, cold air and dust rushed out. Jane was curled in a corner, clutching a rusted metal box. Her face was paper-white, lips tinged an unnatural blue. Her school pants were muddy; a fresh cut bled on her right index finger, red drops staining the box's latch. "Jane!" He knelt, lifting her. His fingers touched her icy skin; his heart seized. Her lashes fluttered. She opened her eyes with effort. Seeing him, she smiled faintly. The smile was faint, tinged with relief and a trace of hurt. "You came..." "Don't talk." He wrapped her in his suit jacket, his