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do it tomorrow. And tomorrow had never come. CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR: THE RECKONING The reckoning had come on a cold winter night, years after Ruth had left William in Willow Creek. She had been living in a small town in Louisiana, working at a diner, keeping her head down, staying out of sight. She had been there for three years, longer than she had stayed anywhere since she had started running. She had begun to hope, tentatively, that the running was finally over. But the reckoning had come, as it always did, when she least expected it. She had heard the knock on the door, a sharp, insistent sound that had jolted her awake. She had sat up, her heart pounding, her eyes scanning the darkness. The knock had come again, louder this time, more urgent. She had opened the door, and there he was. James. He was older, his face lined with years of hardship, his hair streaked with gray. He was thinner than she remembered, his clothes worn and threadbare, his eyes haunted by the ghosts of the past. But he was alive. He was here. He had come back. "Ruth," he had said, his voice soft and trembling. "I m sorry. I m so sorry." She had fallen into his arms, her body shaking with sobs. She had held him, clung to him, refused to let go. She had thought she would never see him again, had accepted that he was gone, had tried to move on with her life. And now he was here, in her arms, as if no time had passed at all. "James," she had whispered. "I thought you were dead. I thought I would never see you again." He had held her, his arms wrapped around her, his body shaking with silent sobs. "I m sorry, Ruth. I m so sorry. I should have come back for you. I should have protected you." She had looked up at him, her eyes searching his face. She had seen the pain in his eyes, the regret, the love. She had known, in that moment, that he had suffered as much as she had, that he had been running just as long, that he had never stopped loving her. "James, I have so much to tell you," she had said. "So much has happened. So much has changed." He had nodded, his eyes filled with understanding. "I know," he had said. "I know everything. I ve been watching, just like you. I know about William. I know about the Thomases. I know about everything." He had taken her hand and led her inside, sat her down, and told her everything. James had told her about the men who had hunted him, the secrets he had uncovered, the evidence he had hidden. He had told her about his years on the run, his constant fear, his desperate hope that one day he would see her again. He had told her about the evidence, the proof that could destroy the men who had destroyed their lives. "I ve been hiding it all these years," he had said. "I ve been waiting for the right moment to use it. And I think that moment is finally here." He had told her about William, about the son he had never known, about the family he had never been able to have. He had told her that he had been watching William, just like she had, that he had seen him grow and thrive, that he was proud of the man he had become. "He s a good boy, Ruth,"