Booktree.ng_Forgotten-Witness

man had taken his life and the way he had taken it defied
reason. He had not cried out in despair. He had not made
demands. He had not threatened to kill himself. He had just
done it. He had given no reason for the kiss, no reason to hold
her, no reason to leave her. He had not raised his arms as if he
thought he could fly but crossed them as if he were simply
finished.
But he hadn’t accomplished a damn thing. Josie still didn’t
know where Hannah was; she still didn’t understand the things
he had given her or the things she had found. He could have
waited just a minute more, an hour, a day. She would have sat
with him, walked with him, coaxed and cajoled the answers
out of him. Was it her fault he couldn’t wait? Had she
intimidated him? Violated him? Disappointed him?
Had she?
Josie grabbed the railing. Her knees wobbled. She sank to
the floor, her face thrust against the ironwork as she gulped in
the cold air. Still, her stomach heaved and hurt. It didn’t matter
why any of this had happened; it mattered that it had. It didn’t
matter what information this man possessed; it was gone. Josie
heard a car door slam and the sound of hard shoes running
from down the street. A man was coming from the left but
someone else was coming from the right. Bundled in a car
coat, wearing jeans, and gloves and a hat, was a slight girl. She
got to the body first and threw herself over it. Stunned, Josie
pulled herself up and peered through the dark, hardly believing
what she was seeing.
“Hey!” she called. “Hey!”
Down below the person clutching Ian Francis looked up and
Josie saw the face of a young girl, a young woman. Her
features were obscured by the dark and her pain; Josie’s vision
was obscured by shock and wishful thinking.
“Hannah?” Josie murmured, and then she screamed:
“Hannah!”