Chapter 5 - Makayla

Sunlight seeped through the curtains, warming my skin as consciousness gradually returned. The dull ache in my ribs greeted me immediately—a lingering reminder of how close I’d come to disaster. Slowly, I pushed myself upright, careful not to aggravate my injuries, my eyes adjusting to the cozy bedroom around me.

Pockets lifted his head, ears perking up as I stirred. He wagged his tail sleepily as if reassuring me everything was fine now. I smiled softly, scratching behind his ears. At least one of us had slept peacefully.

The woman—my mysterious rescuer—had promised to go back out into the storm and retrieve my things. Had she really braved the blizzard for me, a stranger she’d found crumpled in a wrecked car? Doubt twisted inside me. Growing up surrounded by politicians taught me how empty promises could be. I needed proof.

Taking a steadying breath, I slipped my feet onto the cold floor, standing slowly to test my strength. The pain was manageable, and as I wrapped myself in the warm sweater she’d left for me, I felt steady enough to face her again.

I stepped carefully out into the main room, my eyes adjusting quickly to the gentle glow from the fireplace. She was curled up on the worn couch, her long legs tucked beneath her and her sketchpad resting on her knees. Her gaze snapped to me instantly, sharp and cautious but not unfriendly.

I shifted slightly in the chair, wincing at the dull pain radiating through my ribs, as she questioned me about the flash drive. Pockets nestled warmly in my lap, oblivious to the tension thickening between me and the woman curled up on the worn couch across from us. Her cautious gaze was unwavering, and I felt distinctly vulnerable beneath its weight.

She’d gone out into a blizzard to retrieve my things, and I had no idea why. Kindness? Curiosity? Maybe both. Either way, I owed her something more than vague assurances—but I couldn’t risk revealing too much.

The flash drive was safe—at least according to her. Even knowing it was just steps away didn’t entirely calm my nerves. That drive held every shred of evidence I needed to dismantle Stacey’s carefully curated facade, and I’d almost lost it and myself to the storm. Now, it was here, in the hands of a stranger whose intentions I couldn’t fully decipher.

Her eyes softened as she watched Pockets. “Your dog was worried about you. Barely left your side all night.”

“He’s a good judge of character,” I said, lightly scratching under his chin. “He seems pretty comfortable here.”

She shifted slightly, still cautious. “Animals usually know who they can trust.”

Oh, she hit the nail on the head with that one. Pockets never liked Stacey, and I didn’t listen. I should pay more attention to how he interacts with people going forward. Let him be the judge of who I trust from now on. I glanced down at him and then back at my rescuer. I wonder what he thinks of her. He hasn’t been growling or on guard as he gets around Stacey. That doesn’t mean I should trust her.

“Is there anything else I can get you?” she asked softly, interrupting the swirl of my thoughts. Her voice was gentle but guarded, as though she feared crossing some invisible line.

“No, I’m fine. Really,” I assured her, forcing a smile that felt strained even to me. “You’ve done so much already. Probably more than you needed to.”

She arched an eyebrow slightly, lips curling into the faintest smile. “Leaving someone stranded in a snowstorm didn’t seem like an option.”

“I appreciate it,” I admitted, my voice quieter now. “I’m sorry I put you through the trouble.”

Her expression softened, something resembling compassion flickering briefly in her eyes. “Don’t be. I’m glad I could help.”

Pockets sighed contentedly in my lap, his tiny body warm and comforting. I scratched behind his ears absentmindedly, my attention still fixed on the woman across from me. The firelight danced across her features, casting shadows that highlighted the elegant curve of her jaw and the thoughtful intensity of her gaze. Even wary, she radiated a quiet strength I couldn’t help but admire.

We sat quietly, sizing each other up, neither quite ready to speak first. Finally, the silence became too heavy.

“I’m Makayla, by the way,” I said, offering a cautious, tentative smile.

I felt ridiculous not knowing her name and decided to introduce myself first. I didn’t give her my surname, but I kept that to myself until I could trust her. Sure, Hopkins isn’t some super uncommon name, but there aren’t a ton of Makayla Hopkins in the country. Despite that, my job is behind the scenes as a politician’s daughter, and till I break up with her, a politician’s girlfriend, I’ve made the news throughout my life.

She tilted her head slightly, a faint, hesitant smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “I’m Lilac. Lilac Ray.”

“Lilac,” I repeated softly, tasting the name, oddly fitting her calm but watchful presence. “Nice to officially meet you. And thank you, again, for everything—especially for going out in that storm. It wasn’t exactly a pleasant night to be outside.”

Lilac’s eyes remained steady on mine, curious but careful. “You didn’t exactly plan on crashing, I assume.”

“No,” I admitted, a short, humorless laugh escaping me. “Definitely not.”

Her gaze grew more intent, eyebrows pulling together slightly. “What exactly was so important that it couldn’t wait out a snowstorm?”

I stiffened a bit, caught off-guard by her bluntness. My instinct was to deflect and protect the truth, but something in her expression—a mixture of suspicion and genuine curiosity—made me hesitate.

“It was…” I paused, my mind scrambling for a plausible explanation. “A personal issue. Something urgent I needed to deal with in Aspen.”

Lilac studied me carefully, eyes narrowing slightly. Her gaze was penetrating, as if she could see through my half-truths. I had the sudden suspicion she already knew more about me than she was letting on. Had she seen my ID? Maybe she’d looked me up online after finding me. Perhaps she’d looked at the flash drive while I was asleep.

“You know,” she said slowly, her voice soft but deliberate, “when I found you, I wasn’t sure you’d survive the night. I figured whatever drove you out into this storm must’ve been serious. Life-and-death serious.”

“It was,” I admitted quietly, avoiding specifics. “But it’s something I’d prefer to handle privately.”

She studied me for a long moment, her eyes searching mine, trying to read beyond the careful, neutral expression I’d crafted. “It must be pretty important. Personal or political?”

Her words landed sharply, slicing straight through my carefully maintained composure. She knew exactly who I was—of course she did. The daughter of a senator and girlfriend of another didn’t exactly stay anonymous. My jaw tightened slightly, my mind racing for a believable deflection.

“A little of both,” I finally admitted, keeping my voice steady and neutral. “Family stuff got… complicated. I needed some space.”

It’s not exactly a lie, but it’s far from the full truth. Lilac studied me quietly for a long moment, clearly debating whether or not to push further. Finally, she leaned back into the cushions, exhaling softly.

“I’m guessing this has something to do with the senator,” Lilac pressed gently, her tone neutral though her eyes were sharp. “Your girlfriend.”

I forced a humorless laugh. “Soon-to-be ex-girlfriend, actually.”

Lilac’s expression softened slightly, though the caution didn’t fade entirely. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

I shook my head dismissively, anger and bitterness coloring my words before I could stop them. “Don’t be. She’s not exactly the person she pretends to be.”

Lilac studied me intently, her gaze calculating like she was piecing something together. “That doesn’t explain why you’d drive through a blizzard just to get to her.”

I swallowed the truth, pressing it back down. “No, it doesn’t,” I said quietly. “But sometimes you need to face someone, and it can’t wait.”

She nodded slowly, still skeptical, but didn’t push further. Instead, the silence stretched between us again, filled only by the faint crackling of logs in the fireplace. Pockets sighed deeply, burrowing closer against me.

I stared into the fire, heart racing. My secrets—my mission—were precariously balanced now. And this woman, Lilac, had seen enough to sense the weight of it, even if she didn’t yet know all the details. And the longer I stayed, the harder it would be to keep those details hidden.

“You risked a lot to break up with her. And that flash drive…” she said after a moment, her voice carefully neutral but probing beneath the surface. “Must be pretty important.”

My pulse quickened. I glanced away briefly, weighing my words carefully before responding. “It’s complicated.”

She watched me quietly, clearly dissatisfied by my evasiveness. But she didn’t push, instead nodding slowly, accepting my vague response. Silence fell between us again, punctuated only by the soft crackle of the fire.

I shifted in my seat, struggling to find common ground. “So… you live out here alone?”

She hesitated briefly, her gaze flickering toward the window and the storm raging outside. “I do. It’s peaceful. Usually.”

“Except when strangers crash nearby?” I teased gently, hoping to lighten the mood.

A faint, reluctant smile crossed her lips. “Exactly.”

I couldn’t help the small smile tugging at my lips as Lilac’s reluctant humor softened the air between us. For a brief moment, the tension seemed lighter, less oppressive. Pockets shifted restlessly in my lap, sensing the easing of tension, too. Then, with a wide, luxurious yawn, he abruptly hopped down and trotted toward the couch, pausing to sniff Lilac’s socked feet before effortlessly leaping onto the cushions beside her.

I stared at him, feeling oddly betrayed. “Wow, way to abandon me,” I muttered, feigning offense.

Lilac laughed softly, a warm, genuine sound that surprised me. She reached out, gently scratching Pockets behind his ears, earning an immediate, contented sigh from my traitorous dog.

“Looks like he’s decided to adopt you,” I commented dryly, though warmth spread in my chest, seeing how comfortable he was with her.

Pockets was always careful about who he trusted, yet here he was, practically melting under Lilac’s touch. Maybe it was a reassuring sign that she wasn’t someone I needed to guard myself against quite so fiercely.

Lilac glanced up at me, her expression softening noticeably. “I promise I’m not trying to steal him.”

“Honestly, he’s probably relieved to be with someone who’s not constantly making questionable life choices,” I said, only half-joking.

Lilac’s brows rose slightly, amusement flickering briefly across her features before concern reclaimed its place. “Questionable life choices, huh?” Her voice softened, carefully neutral, inviting more without pressuring me.

I hesitated, staring into the flames as I debated how much to share. I’d already given away more than I intended, yet something in Lilac’s quiet presence encouraged honesty—at least up to a point.

“Let’s just say I’m reevaluating a lot of things,” I finally admitted, my voice low. “Like trusting people who claim to have everyone’s best interests at heart.”

Lilac’s hand paused in Pockets’ fur, her eyes sharp and thoughtful as they studied me. “Sounds like you’ve been burned pretty badly.”

“Something like that,” I murmured, my chest tightening briefly with bitter memories. Stacey’s carefully curated lies, her practiced smiles that masked darker intentions—I’d trusted her completely, and she’d repaid that trust with betrayal.

Lilac remained silent, allowing me to keep my secrets. The quiet stretched comfortably between us, with the fire crackling softly in the small room. I watched her hands move confidently yet gently through Pockets’ thick coat. She seemed at ease in her solitude, unbothered by the harshness of her surroundings.

“How long have you lived out here?” I asked softly, curiosity overcoming my caution.

“A couple of years,” she replied, glancing up to meet my gaze. “It helps me think clearly, away from the noise of the world.”

I nodded slowly, understanding that all too well. “Sometimes, noise is all I’ve ever known.”

Lilac’s expression softened, something like empathy shimmering briefly behind her careful composure. “Then maybe the silence here can help you find what you’re looking for.”

My breath caught slightly, her words unexpectedly comforting. Maybe she was right. Perhaps I could finally figure out my next move in this quiet cabin with a woman whose kindness felt genuine and guarded.