Chapter 409
Chapter 409
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Chapter 409
Skyla picked up the jacket from the ground.
Her stiff, trembling fingers nearly dug into the fabric.
She wasn’t mistaken. Winter had been wearing this jacket today.
It was from a brand Winter liked. It was expensive, but for someone like Winter, who had grown up with everything, loved by her parents before she turned seven and later brought into the Xander estate, it was nothing more than an everyday jacket.
After all these years, Winter’s taste and style had barely changed.
As if still unwilling to believe it, Skyla lifted the jacket to her nose.
A faint trace of perfume reached her.
It was Winter’s.
The jacket was soaked through from the rain, heavy in her hands.
Just like her heart, which had sunk to the bottom.
She thought back to the moment before the explosion. Winter had still been wearing this jacket then.
And there was no way the blast could have thrown Winter into this forest.
So why was Winter’s jacket here?
The answer was obvious.
Winter wasn’t dead.
She had made it into the forest.
But even if the jacket was soaked, Winter had no reason to take it off unless someone had made her change into something warmer.
Then who was that person?
Who would care about Winter that much?
Skyla gritted her chattering teeth. Her eyes suddenly turned red, and bitter, unwilling tears spilled out.
They were not dead.
Winter and Chris were both alive.
And just like her, they had entered this forest. They might not have gone far.
At the thought that Winter and Chris were here too, Skyla’s blood seemed to boil all over agam.
She had to find Chris.
She bad to find Winter.
She had to kill Winter.
But she didn’t know which way they had gone. The forest was huge and overgrown with weeds. She could barely see the ground beneath her feet. Every step felt like a guess.
But Skyla couldn’t wait any longer.
Chris would definitely take Winter away from the gunfire.
Dragging her heavy legs, she kept moving. The helicopter lights near the cliff cut through the gaps in the branches, giving her just enough light to see the ground.
Suddenly, she stopped.
She studied the flattened grass around her.
Only footsteps could have pressed the wild grass down like that.
Skyla’s eyes were as cold as the rain as she stared at the two trails in front of her.
She didn’t know that one trail belonged to Chris and Winter, while the other had been left by one of Fabian’s men. He was the same man Chris had shot dead while kissing Winter.
Then Skyla suddenly turned and looked back at Winter’s jacket.
Bang!
Gunshots rang out through the woods, one after another, coming from different directions.
Wearing night-vision goggles, Winter leaned against Chris’s shoulder and fired at one of Fabian’s men at their three o’clock.
The recoil drove the butt of the gun into Chris’s back.
Embarrassment flickered across her face, but the next second, she said openly, “Sorry p>
That small hit was nothing to Chris. He glanced at Fabian’s man, who had dropped to the ground and wasn’t getting back up, and knew Winter had hit a vital spot with a single shot.
He continued forward with her steady on his back.
“Your shooting has improved p>
Winter hadn’t expected Chris to actually praise her.
Surprising, yes, but he wasn’t wrong.
It wasn’t unpleasant to hear.
“My coach was good,” Winter said, tightening her grip on the gun.
Since even Chris, sharp-tongued as he was, could praise her, Roy would probably praise her too if he were
here.
Florence
A passionate storyteller who brings emotions to life through her words. When she’s not writing, she finds peace nurturing her garden.