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MAIA'S hands tangled into the dry grass. Her eyes remained closed, but she still took in handfuls of weeds, pulling it apart from the ground to feel the dirt crust under her nails. She opened her orbs to the sight of red leaves hanging over her, sunlight trying to peak through the branches and blinding her.
The blonde slowly sat up as she began to look around her. She saw grass. Maia hadn't seen grass in too long. She breathed in quickly, hands finding the trunk of the white-barked tree next to her. There was only one explanation to this scenery: she had returned to Washington.
Maia took a while to finally stand, because her legs wobbled and her knees shook with tremors. She wasn't sure how long she'd been lying there, but she did take note of how her heart seemed to bleed as her mind replayed the scene of Jon's death that happened right before her eyes. She had been gone for months, and suddenly fate decided she should return when she was being chased for kill? Things weren't adding up in her brain.
She stumbled down the small hill of grass, pushing the caution tape placed around the tree out of her way, until she reached the dirt walking path. Nausea settled in her stomach as she spotted a police car sat just a few feet away. There had to have been an investigation for her, but she wouldn't have thought for it to go on for so long.
Derek must have been – oh, God. Derek was already gone. He probably canceled the wedding. He probably thought her to be dead.
The officer leaning against his car looked off into the horizon, immediately identifying the dirty blonde walking up to his vehicle. She was wearing an odd outfit of sorts, but he was no fool. He had seen too many photos of her to not recognize her. He sprinted to Maia, quickly hooking her arms around his shoulders as she asked who he was, to which he responded, "My name is Officer Conway, ma'am. We've been looking for you for a long time."
Maia held her head as the officer slid her into his cruiser. "I was ... away. Far, far away."
Officer Conway didn't have time to ask her questions, or how she suddenly appeared at the place of her vanishing out of the blue. Her choice of clothing depicted her story, for she wore a torn wool skirt with a tight bodice and hand-made sweater covering her shoulders. He unclipped his radio from his belt, muttering into it, "I found her, sheriff. I found Maia Sanders."
•••
He had booked a flight for that night as soon as he got the call from the Washington police department. Derek rushed for his plane, and it only took overnight to finally arrive in Washington once again. Being in the state of his fiancé's supposed disappearance made him feel odd, especially when he had been sad for so long, thinking that she had been murdered.
He almost hadn't believed the officer when he called him. It had been months since he'd last seen her, so it was normal for him to finally come to terms with her vanishing and to seek the help of a professional. But when he got the call, he knew that even if the woman they'd found wasn't Maia, he needed to see for himself.
