Chapter 286: Chapter 286

Chapter 286

Isabelle ran through the pitch-black woods until her feet went completely numb. The freezing rain tore through her wet denim jacket, plastering her hair against her face, but she didn't slow down. Every time she closed her eyes for a split second, all she could hear was the brutal sound of that gunshot echoing through the storm and Ethan’s bloodcurdling scream as he collapsed onto the riverbank.

She pushed through a thick cluster of wet bushes, her hands bleeding from sharp thorns, until her boots suddenly hit hard asphalt. She had made it out of the forest and onto a narrow, double-lane highway. The road was dark, slick with rainwater, and mostly deserted in the early hours of the morning.

Isabelle stumbled out into the middle of the road, her legs shaking so violently she could barely keep her balance. A pair of bright yellow headlights appeared in the distance, cutting through the fog. A gray sedan was driving down the highway at a steady speed.

Desperate, Isabelle waved her arms frantically above her head, running toward the oncoming vehicle. "Stop! Please, stop!" she screamed at the top of her lungs, her voice cracking from pure panic.

The driver slammed on the brakes, the car screeching to a harsh halt just a few feet away from her. An middle-aged man rolled his window down an inch, looking at her with wide, terrified eyes. Isabelle looked like a total mess soaked in dark mud, bleeding from her face and hands, tears streaming down her dirty cheeks.

Isabelle rushed to the driver's window, slapping her wet palms against the glass. "Please! You have to help me!" she begged, her breath coming out in ragged, frantic gasps. "My friend... he's hurt! He got shot back in the woods near the river! There are armed men back there, please, you have to drive down there or call the police! Please help me save him!"

The driver stared at her like she was an insane person who had just escaped from an asylum. He looked at her ruined clothes, her wild, bloodshot eyes, and then glanced nervously toward the dark treeline behind her.

"Get away from my car, lady," the man said in a tight, terrified French accent, quickly locking the doors with a loud click.

"No, please! I'm not crazy!" Isabelle cried out, pounding against the window as the man put the car into reverse. "He's going to die if nobody goes back for him! Please just listen to me!"

The driver didn't listen to another word. He stepped hard on the gas, swerving around her and speeding off down the highway, leaving her standing alone in the pouring rain.

Isabelle collapsed onto her knees in the middle of the asphalt, putting her wet hands over her face as harsh, uncontrollable sobs wracked her entire body. Nobody was going to help her. Nobody was going to go into those dark woods to face Sam's armed guards for a stranger. She was completely on her own, and Ethan was back there at the edge of that river, completely at the mercy of the men who wanted him dead.

"Where are you, Ethan?" she whispered into the dark wind, her chest aching with a deep, crushing agony. "Please be alive... please just stay alive."

Knowing she couldn't stay out in the open where Sam's patrols might spot her, Isabelle forced herself back onto her feet. She dragged her heavy, aching legs down the side of the highway, following the road signs pointed toward the nearest town. She walked for nearly forty minutes through the freezing rain until the low, dim lights of a small rural train station appeared through the fog.

The station was small, rustic, and mostly quiet at this hour. Inside the small brick waiting room, a few local commuters sat quietly on wooden benches, sipping hot coffee from paper cups. When Isabelle stumbled through the glass doors, wet mud dripping off her boots onto the clean tile floor, every single person turned to stare at her in silence.

She ignored their judging looks and walked straight up to the small ticket window. Behind the glass sat an older woman wearing a navy blue railway uniform, reading a newspaper.

Isabelle knocked on the glass, her voice trembling. "Excuse me... please."

The ticket agent looked up, her eyebrows pulling together in immediate disgust as she took in Isabelle's appearance. "Miss, if you are looking for shelter, the public town center is two miles down the road. You cannot sleep in the station."

"I don't want to sleep," Isabelle said, her hands trembling as she held onto the ledge beneath the window. "I need to get to Paris. Please. I need to get on the next train."

The woman shifted in her seat, looking at her coldly. "The regional express to Paris leaves in ten minutes. That will be forty-five euros."

Isabelle reached into her wet jacket pockets, searching frantically. Her fingers brushed against the small, hard plastic of the black flash drive tucked deep inside her inner pocket, but there was nothing else. No wallet. No cash. No phone. Sam had taken everything from her when he brought her to the estate.

"I... I don't have my wallet," Isabelle choked out, fresh tears welling up in her eyes as she looked at the woman behind the glass. "Please, ma'am. I'm begging you. I was attacked. I lost everything in the woods, and I need to get away from here. If I stay here, they're going to find me."

"No money, no ticket," the ticket agent said plainly, her tone completely flat as she reached to pull down the small metal blind on the window. "I hear stories like this every week from runaway kids. Call your family or step aside, miss. I have a job to do."

"Please!" Isabelle cried, her voice cracking so loudly that two men sitting on the benches turned around to look. She pressed her face against the glass, her tears dropping onto the ledge. "I'm not lying to you! Look at me! I am terrified, I am soaked, and I have nowhere else to go. My friend sacrificed himself so I could get away. If I don't get to Paris, everything he did was for nothing. Please... just let me sit on the floor of the train. I don't need a seat. Just let me get on."

The older woman paused, her hand hovering over the metal blind. She looked closely at Isabelle's face at the raw, genuine terror in her eyes, the dark bruises on her wrists, and the way her whole body was shivering from severe cold and exhaustion. This wasn't a teenager making up an excuse for a free ride. This was a girl running for her absolute life.

The ticket agent let out a long, heavy sigh. She looked over her shoulder to make sure her manager wasn't standing in the back office, then reached under the counter and printed a small paper ticket.

She slid the ticket through the bottom slot of the glass window, along with a small, clean paper towel.

"Platform two," the woman said quietly, her harsh tone softening just a fraction. "The conductor on this shift is an old friend of mine. Keep your head down, wipe your face, and don't make any noise until you reach the central station in Paris."

Isabelle grabbed the ticket with shaking hands, holding it tight against her chest as if it were a lifesaver. "Thank you," she gasped out, wiping her wet eyes with her sleeve. "Thank you so much."

Two minutes later, the loud, rhythmic rumble of the train echoed down the tracks as the engine pulled into platform two. The heavy metal doors slid open, and Isabelle stepped inside the warm, brightly lit carriage.

She walked all the way to the very back of the passenger car, picking a dark corner seat right beside the window. She curled her legs up against her chest, wrapping her arms tight around herself to stop her body from shaking, but nothing could stop the deep, hollow ache in her heart.

As the train pulled away from the station, smooth metal wheels clacking against the track as it picked up speed toward Paris, Isabelle pressed her forehead against the cold glass window. Outside, the dark, rain-soaked trees of the French countryside blurred past in the night.

She reached into her inner jacket pocket, her fingers wrapping tight around the small black flash drive. It was cold and small, but inside it lay every single secret, every illegal file, and every crime Sam Keystone had ever committed. Ethan had bled on that riverbank just so she could hold this drive in her hands.

A single tear rolled slowly down her cheek, leaving a wet trail on her dirty skin as she stared out into the dark.

"I'm going to finish this, Ethan," she whispered into the empty glass, her voice shaking with quiet, heartbreaking resolve. "I promise you. I'm going to make him pay for what he did to you."