Winter's Wrath: Sacrifice (Winter's Saga #3)

Alik grinned again, nodding his approval. “I’ll just pull this curtain and give you some privacy to change. When you’re ready, just holler, and I’ll help you down the aisle, okay?”


Farrow could only offer a smile in response. She was so stunned by the gentle treatment to which she was unaccustomed. Back at the Facility, she would have been given an order or directive. No one would have asked her opinion or preference. No one would have cared if she had an idea and absolutely no one would have wanted her to share any thoughts. And no one would offer to help her if she were injured.

Alik pulled a privacy curtain closed. It surrounded her bed completely, except the side adjacent to the wall of the plane. Farrow looked first in the duffle bag at her feet and found a simple pair of white cotton panties and a bra. Pulling those on first, she then slipped herself into the soft pink sweatpants. Everything smelled so freshly cleaned. She held the T-shirt to her nose for a moment, breathing the floral, powdery fresh scent. Nothing laundered at the Facility ever smelled this clean—or beautiful. Ever. Not to mention she had never worn anything pink before.

“Okay, I’m dressed,” Farrow said as she reached to pull the curtain back.

Alik was at her side in three steps, helping her lower her legs off the side of the bed. He held her elbow securely, encouraging her to lean against him as they took their first tentative steps down the aisle. Farrow instinctively held her stomach where she was sporting a couple dozen stitches.

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“I’m okay,” she said bravely. In reality, her head was spinning and her guts felt as if they were about to spill out.

“You’re doing fine,” Alik encouraged.

The plane was large enough to accommodate fifty passengers comfortably. Everyone was seated near the front of the plane.

Evan met them in the aisle, smiling at Farrow proudly. “You are looking much better. How do you feel?”

Farrow looked up at Alik, unsure how to answer.

“I know he looks like a kid, but he really is your doctor,” Alik assured.

“I’m tender, but I’ll be fine in a few days. Thank you for saving my life.” Farrow spoke earnestly.

Evan shrugged humbly and looked at his big brother. “So you got our patient to drink soup, eat applesauce and turn away from the dark side? I’d say you’re a regular Florence Nightingale.”

“Hey now,” Alik said seriously. “That’s Frank Nightingale to you, buddy.”

The brothers grinned at each other as they helped Farrow the rest of the way down the aisle and sat her in a chair next to their mother and across from Meg. Dr. Andrews sat on the other side of Margo. Farrow noticed he was the only person who wouldn’t look her in the eye. Inwardly, Meg frowned at Dr. Andrews holding a grudge against this poor girl.

“We would have come to you dear, but Evan insisted you needed to get up and do some walking.”

“It’ll speed the healing,” Evan offered logically.

“I am feeling better after putting on some clothes, and the walk wasn’t too bad,” Farrow said feeling stupid and ugly in their presence.

“You and I wear the same size,” Meg smiled at her. “I figured comfy pants were a must after your surgery.”

“Yes, thank you. Thank all of you for your kindness. I don’t deserve it. You have every reason to hate me,” Farrow blurted, tears starting to pool in her dark eyes.

“Oh, no. Not this again,” Alik moaned putting his hand to his face.

“Farrow, you have so much sadness and self-loathing bubbling inside,” Margo turned in her seat to face the girl. “You need to realize you are more than what you’ve done. You are more than your mistakes. You lived life the best you knew how before. Now that you have been offered a new way to live, you have embraced it. Let go of your self-loathing because it has no place for you in your new life.” Margo punctuated her last statement by wiping a tear from Farrow’s face with a soft napkin.

Farrow nodded solemnly, shocked by the woman’s words.

“Are you ready to talk now?” Margo asked carefully.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Alik, you mentioned an idea you had?” Margo looked to her older son.

“Well, it occurred to me when I was talking with Farrow about Creed,” Alik glanced at Meg and swallowed his sadness at seeing her cringe. “Farrow figured out Creed had a heightened ability, though he was a second-generation metahuman.”

“Yes, Creed could turn off his pain sensors,” Margo clarified for Farrow.

“Well, if Creed had a gift he kept secret from the director, isn’t it possible there are others too afraid to speak up? They had to know Williams would start the bloodletting and dissection if they were found out.”