Final Approach to Freedom

Chapter 15

Sophia Whitaker wasn’t so lucky.

The moment the van brushed past her, she was thrown violently to the ground. Her carefully styled curls were coated in dust, her dress torn at the hem, and her knees scraped raw, blood seeping through.

The cruelest irony? Alexander Hartley—the man who had always shielded her—stood just three steps away, watching coldly.

"N-no… This can’t be…"

Her lips trembled as she stared at the van’s license plate, the words barely forming. It bore the markings of a city she had desperately tried to forget.

The van door swung open, and a man in a faded shirt leaped out. His sun-darkened skin and calloused hands marked him as a fisherman, hardened by years of labor.

"Sophia. Three years." Ethan Clarke’s voice was a venomous hiss. "Did you really think hiding in Newchester would erase everything?"

Sophia recoiled as if burned, clutching at Alexander’s sleeve in panic. "Alex… this man is insane—let’s go—"

But Alexander seized her wrist instead. "You know him?"

"I—I don’t—"

"Oh, she knows me," Ethan sneered. "Three years ago, my father drowned saving her. She faked amnesia, leeched off my family, tricked me into marriage, then ran off with everything once her memory 'conveniently' returned. Tell me, Sophia—am I lying?"

Gasps rippled through the gathering crowd.

Sophia’s face drained of color. "How much do you want? I’ll pay you—right now!"

"Money?" Ethan flung a yellowed photograph onto the pavement. "I want the truth."

The photo showed a younger Sophia in rustic clothes, clinging to Ethan’s arm in front of a shabby fishing village wedding altar.

Alexander bent to pick it up, his fingers unsteady. Suddenly, the past three years made sense—Sophia’s vague claims about her past, the suspicious burn scar on her wrist she could never explain.

"Miss Whitaker," he said, the formality cutting like ice, "shall I call the police for you?"

That shattered her. With a scream, she lunged at Ethan, raking her nails across his face. "This is your fault! If your father hadn’t meddled—!"

Ethan didn’t flinch, letting the blood trickle down his cheek. His voice was terrifyingly soft as he stared at the woman he’d once shared a bed with. "Finally showing your true colors?"

Sirens wailed in the distance. Sophia froze, then twisted to flee—only for Alexander’s grip to lock onto her shoulder.

"Don’t rush," the once-gentle professor said, his eyes glacial. "Let’s wait for the police. We have so much to discuss about where you’ve really been these past three years."