?Chapter 709:


    Dust danced in the light. Cobwebs hung thick in the corners.<fn1551> Follow current nov?ls on ?ovelFind</fn1551>


    Broken furniturey scattered like forgotten bones. Then the beam hit something—or someone.


    In a dark corner of the cabin, slumped in a chair, was a man.


    Ste and Sharon froze, their breathing barely audible.


    He was wearing camo gear, stained with dirt and dried blood.


    One arm dangled uselessly at his side; the other clutched his ribs as if he were barely holding himself together.


    His face was buried in shadow, but the slow, shallow rise and fall of his chest showed he was still breathing.


    “He’s alive,” Sharon breathed, instinctively stepping in front of Ste, her eyes never leaving the man in the chair.


    Then he moved. Slowly, with obvious pain, he lifted his head.


    His lips were cracked and bloody, his eyes dull but locked on the two of them. “Who’s… there?” he croaked.


    Even through the haze of pain, his eyes flicked toward Ste—confused, surprised, desperate.


    His throat bobbed as he struggled to keep his gaze on them, every muscle in his body coiled tight.


    Strangely, Ste didn’t feel scared. She felt… drawn. She started to step forward.


    Sharon grabbed her arm. “Stel, what are you doing?!”


    Ste shook her head, her voice low. “He’s badly hurt. He’s not a threat.”


    Sharon hesitated, lips pressed into a thin line, but finally let go.


    Before either of them could say more, the man slumped back into the chair, unconscious. Once inside, Ste had Sharon aim the shlight at his wound, which was still oozing blood.


    Ste crouched beside him and gently brushed back a blood-matted lock of hair from his forehead.


    The moment she saw his face, something strange and inexplicable struck her. A flicker of recognition. But she couldn’t remember when or where she had seen such a face.


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    Her gaze dropped to his side. The wound was deep, ugly, and still bleeding. She winced, imagining what the man must be going through.


    “He’s in bad shape,” she muttered. “We need to get him to a doctor.” If they didn’t, he might not pull through.


    Sharon looked around, exasperated. “So what now? Drag him down the mountain?”


    She tugged Ste’s sleeve. “Stel, we came up here looking for clues about your adoptive parents. We don’t even know this guy. Let’s just leave him.”


    Sharon had a point. Some half-dead stranger bleeding out in the middle of the woods was unsettling.


    Ste understood Sharon was worried for her, but she couldn’t shake the feeling in her gut.


    The man being here wasn’t some random twist of fate.


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