You'll Thank Me for This by Nina Siegal (top 10 books of all time txt) 📕

Somehow this last statement sent a chill up Grace’s spine. But as soon as she felt it, she told herself that her feeling was wrong, absurd. Martijn wouldn’t hurt children. He certainly wouldn’t hurt Karin. What had gotten into her? She’d somehow spooked herself about her own husband. None of that was happening.

Still, it would be pitch-black out there in the forest, she thought. Even if the kids were together, how would they handle some kind of situation that involved blood?

“I couldn’t reach Martijn,” Grace said. “I sincerely hope Riekje finds them. Will you call her?”

“Yes, I’ll do that right now. Who was the woman who called you? Did she say who she was?” asked Rutger, who was clearly trying to offer Grace moral support. But she didn’t want to stay on the phone anymore. She needed some other course of action.

“A complete stranger,” Grace said, but now she was getting antsy. She had to get off the phone.

“Try Martijn again,” said Rutger. “He was just behind them on the trail. Maybe he’s already caught up with them. It’s possible someone fell down and got a cut and they used an extra T-shirt because they didn’t have a Band-Aid. Something like that. I’m sure it’s something that simple. Martijn would be in the best position to know.”

A pang of terror traveled down her spine this time. But why? Okay, it was strange that he had those documents and files from Pieter, but what on earth would that have to do with this dropping? Martijn wasn’t a violent man, generally speaking. As far as she knew, he had only ever physically hurt one person, and that was her, Grace.

“Yes, it’s a good idea to call him,” she answered perfunctorily. “There’s probably some perfectly reasonable explanation for this.” She should start to count the number of times she’d tried to assuage her own fears using the same exact phrase just today. “I’ll call you back if I find out anything.”

She hung up and leaned over, propping her elbows on her knees, feeling like she might vomit. Taking about four deep breaths in and out, she tried to prepare herself for what would come next. Then she swiped open her phone again and speed-dialed Martijn. She heard it ring and clutched the phone close to her ear, saying, “Come on, come on, pick up, pick up, asshole.” She was absolutely sure he would pick up this time. He had to. He had to provide some explanation. But it rang and rang and rang.

Grace grabbed the two suitcases she had already packed and carried them down the stairs. Her plan was starting now. She was going to find this woman, she was going to the forest, and then she was going to find Karin in the Veluwe herself. And then they were going to The Hague, to Jenny, and they were not coming back here. Not until everything, and that meant every single thing, was somehow straight in her head.

She redialed the woman. “Hello, it’s me, Karin’s mother, Grace. I’d like to come and get the T-shirt, see it. Maybe it will help me figure out what’s going on. Where do you live?”

The woman seemed to have been waiting by the phone for her return call. She told Grace her address and said she’d be there when she arrived. “I know this is not possible,” she added. “But try not to worry. I’m sure your daughter is all right. It’s probably just a false alarm.”

Grace thanked her and hung up, throwing the suitcases into the trunk and getting into the car. She needed to be there now. She needed to fly there. Not another second could be wasted. She needed to have her daughter in her arms.

Chapter 19Pack of Wolves

No, it was not just one wolf. It was the whole family. The big one was up in front, and its eyes were glinting at her. Was that the mom or the dad? She could see the outlines of the little ones behind, one after another stepping out from the brush, like they were a gang assembling for a street fight. They didn’t look really mean or anything, but Karin was freaked.

Karin froze. The big one stood there, just staring at her. And Karin stood there, staring at him…or her. If it was the mom, then that could be worse, because the mom would be really protective of her young and she might need to attack Karin. If it was the dad, well, maybe the same. Karin didn’t know. The wolf barked like a dog for a second and gave a really, really big howl. Loud and piercing, like it wanted to send an alarm.

Holy, holy crap. Karin probably would have run away—in spite of her mom’s advice—if only she could move a single muscle. But her body was just not doing anything. It was like she was stuck in stone. Her arms were, like, paralyzed, and because of that she had dropped her stick on the ground. No way was she bending down to pick it up. No way would she have waved it around anyway. Her arms were not moving. Her feet were stuck in concrete, and her legs started to tremble. She could not run, no way.

For a moment that seemed like an eternity, nothing at all happened. They were like two school enemies, finding themselves alone on a playground, just standing there, sussing each other out. Who would make the first move?

He wasn’t a black wolf, like she’d seen in movies. He was more grayish and golden, kind of like a big version of a red fox. In the app they used to track his movements, her mom had shown her pictures of him. She’d seen him in a lot of nighttime photos—those infrared photos hunters sometimes took at night—black and white, with his eyes looking like two demonic white dots. This was the Veluwe wolf, or maybe his mate, but she didn’t see another