Semua Bab Forbidden Summer Sins: Bab 11 - Bab 17

The safe house was a nondescript cabin two hours north, tucked into dense pine forest with no neighbors for miles. Police escort dropped them at the gravel drive just after dawn, handing Jake a burner phone and strict instructions: no social media, no old numbers, check in twice daily.Inside, it was basic but secure, two bedrooms, a stone fireplace, generator backup, and reinforced doors. Mia claimed the smaller room, leaving Emma and Jake the master with a king bed overlooking the woods.They unpacked in silence, exhaustion weighing heavy. Kayla’s last note burned in Emma’s mind: You can run. But summer’s not over yet.Jake set up the new security feed on his laptop, cameras covering every angle. “Motion alerts to our phones. Nothing gets past us.”Mia cooked breakfast, eggs and toast from stocked supplies trying for normalcy. “We treat this like a forced vacation. Board games, s’mores, no psycho ex talk after dark.”But tension simmered.By afternoon, rain cleared, leaving crisp ai

The rifle in Jake’s hands didn’t waver, but his voice cracked like thin ice.“Uncle Ray?”The older man stepped fully into the moonlight, gray hair catching silver, Harlan family jacket zipped against the cold. The gun in his hand, a sleek pistol remained steady, pointed at Jake’s chest. Connor stood beside him, smirking, hands in pockets like he was attending a barbecue.“Easy, nephew,” Ray said, voice low and calm. “No need for dramatics. We’re family.”Jake’s knuckles whitened on the rifle. “Family doesn’t break into cabins with guns.”Ray’s eyes flicked to the open door, where Emma and Mia stood frozen in the threshold. Vanessa had slipped back inside, pistol drawn but lowered, watching the scene with guarded eyes.“Inside,” Ray ordered. “All of you. We talk like civilized people.”Jake didn’t budge. “You posted Kayla’s bail. You fed her information. Why?”Ray sighed, as if disappointed. “Because someone had to clean up your mess. You’ve been running from responsibility since your

The Polaroid lay on the hospital floor like a dropped accusation. Emma stared at it young Jake, twelve years old, blood on his small hands, eyes wide with shock. Behind him, a woman on the floor, dark hair fanned out, lifeless. The note in red ink burned into her mind: He was there. He watched her bleed out. Ask him why he never called 911.Jake’s breathing changed slow, shallow. He’d woken fully now, eyes locked on the photo she hadn’t yet picked up.“Em…” His voice cracked. “Where did that come from?”She knelt, fingers trembling as she lifted the picture. “Slipped under the door. While we were sleeping.”He reached for it with his good hand. She hesitated, then placed it in his palm.His face drained of color. The monitor beeped faster, heart rate climbing.“I haven’t seen this in fourteen years,” he whispered.Emma sat on the bed’s edge, careful of the IV. “Tell me.”He closed his eyes. “I was twelve. Mom and Dad fought all the time. That night… she said she was leaving. Packed a

The hospital room felt smaller in the gray dawn light, walls closing in as Emma sat beside Jake’s bed. The Polaroid and Ray’s note lay on the tray table like evidence in a trial neither of them wanted. Jake hadn’t spoken since the audio played, Ray’s voice confessing he’d smothered Jake’s mother while Jake hid in the closet, believing it was just a fall.Jake stared at the ceiling, jaw tight, good hand clenched in the sheet. The bandage on his shoulder was fresh, but the pain in his eyes was older, fourteen years deep.Emma hadn’t slept. She’d spent the night replaying the recording, searching for lies, for anything that would spare him this guilt. She found nothing.“Jake,” she whispered.He didn’t look at her.She reached for his hand. He flinched, barely but it cut her deeper than any knife.“I need you to talk to me,” she said. “Please.”His voice came out rough. “What’s left to say? Ray killed her. I watched. And I let him cover it up.”“You were twelve. Traumatized. Your father