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had well and truly destroyed her family. She had to tell the police, and Trent. He was going to be furious. She hated the way he would visibly shake when he was angry, like he was literally going to explode.

He had finally forgiven her for the fire, but there was no way he was going to give her a second chance after this. She was finished. There was only one thing to do. She was a target now, and she couldn't let her toxic influence poison the people she loved any longer. She still had her apartment.

She composed a long email to Trent. She was going to call him but couldn't bare the onslaught she would get. She then considered writing a letter, but her handwriting was abysmal. A text would not be long enough to explain all the things she had to say.

Trent.

Once you read this, I will not be in the house. I am going to ask Judy if the kids can sleep over. I am going to find somewhere to stay, but I can't tell you where. I can't risk you finding me.

I know it's selfish, but I'm doing this for you and the kids. I know I'm a piece of shit and those children deserve so much better, but I can't have them endangered.

Remember, at Christmas, I told you I had been trying to help track a murder online. Well, I was careless. I didn't think. It was just a harmless project. I thought I could do some good somehow. I know it sounds completely naïve, but I didn't know any better.

 

Well now, that person has been keeping tabs on us. They sent a link to the group. It was Pearson's School. He knows where our kids go to school. I know how angry you must be, and I know it won't help, but I'm more angry with myself. You have no idea how much I hate myself right now.

I'm cutting ties. I feel that, if I have nothing to do with you for a while, and I never visit that site again, that everything will blow over in time. I'm going to call the police now and tell them everything. You can show them this letter if they end up paying you a visit.

Please tell the kids that I love them, and that I will be back. Just say I'm having a break, or I've gone on a trip or something.

Sorry.

Piper.

 

Chapter Twenty Three

JASPER - ALBERTA

6 MONTHS LATER

 

Once he had entered the confines of his hotel room, he realized just how bad he smelled as the odor of stale sweat and his damp boots assaulted his nostrils. The door closed behind him and he dropped his backpack straight on the floor with a thud. Without the weight dragging him down, he almost flew across the room. The light ease of his steps was freeing, and he plopped onto the edge of the bed to untie the laces of his clunky hiking boots. As he kicked off his shoes, the smell only got worse.

He shook off his coat, letting it slide off the bed onto the floor. An involuntary groan sprung from his throat as he laid back on the bed and let his tense muscles finally relax. It was almost worth the hardship of the last month just for this pure moment of comfort. For tonight, he would have a soft bed and plump pillows, rather than a tarp being the only protection from the cold, hard ground.

He shifted further up the bed and sank his head into the crisp white pillows. For the last month, his head had rested on a lumpy pillowcase filled with his clothes. The room was spacious with a large bed, writing desk, and armchair. Tap water. The thought of easily accessible water made him smile, and he couldn't wait to have a hot restaurant meal. If only he didn't have to shower first.

He had so little energy left, the thought of everything he had to do made him want to just curl up in a ball and go hungry for the night. It's not as if he were a stranger to hunger. His tiny, dehydrated meals and trail-mix just didn't cut it. After ten minutes of just staring at the ceiling in silence, he stiffly erected himself.

All the clothes in his bag were damp or dirty, and it pained him that he didn't have anything clean to wear. The shiny tiles and porcelain surfaces in the bathroom looked foreign to him now after being amongst mountains, trees, lakes, and meadows for so long. Powerful jets blasted from the shower head and the hot water stung the raw areas that his poorly fitting backpack straps had left behind.

He watched the water pool around his blistered feet, a murky grayish brown that turned clear after a minute or two as the dirt and grime disappeared down the plug hole.

Back in civilization, thoughts started to plague his mind. He had still yet to find a place to live. The insurance had finally paid out after the fire. The thorough investigation had gone on for some time, but it was finally over. It was hard to bring himself to settle on a place. It was a huge commitment, and nowhere seemed right. So, instead of taking the plunge, he detached himself from it all. Wherever his tent laid had become his home.

He squeezed the contents of a miniature shampoo bottle into his hands, which were also blistered from gripping trekking poles with sweaty palms, and he lathered the shampoo through his hair whilst contemplating his next steps. It had seemed so important that he complete the Great Divide Trail, but he had no idea where this pressure had come from. Now it just seemed arbitrary, like a bragging right. It was hard to admit, even to himself,

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