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“That’s awesome, Laila.” Spotting an open spot in front of the library, I pull into it, shifting the car into park. “But remember, Thea had to work today. So give her a little time to relax before you start asking her to do things.”
Laila shoots me a humoring look in the rearview mirror. “I know, Dad. I’ll wait until after dinner. That’s when Miss Thea said we could play together.”
I wonder if Laila would even clean her room without complaining if Thea asked her.
We stay in the car until Leo comes up to my window, signaling the all clear with a quick jerk of his chin. When it’s just me going to get Thea, I come on my own. But with Laila, I’m not too proud to ask for the added protection. If something happens, and it’s just me trying to keep both of my girls safe—
I don’t want to think about it.
“Okay, sweetie. I’m coming around to get you. Remember, hold my hand until we get into the library.”
As soon as we get inside, Laila yanks her hand out of mine and races over to Thea, chattering excitedly. I hear words like dragons and nail polish and cookies, and Thea’s laughing by the time I get over to her.
“Okay, Laila.” I put my hand on her shoulder, gently turning her to me. “Remember what I said in the car.”
She stares at me before sighing dramatically. “Fine.”
“Why don’t you look in my bag?” Thea bends down and hands a small tote bag to her. “It has the two books I told you about, and a couple of others I thought you might like. I’ll just talk to your dad for a second, and then we can go.”
“Okay.” Laila’s already digging into the bag, completely absorbed by whatever magical books Thea chose for her.
That gives me the opportunity to pull Thea into my arms, breathing in her soft scent and pressing my lips to her silky curls. She wraps her arms around my waist, leaning in, giving me all of her weight. And the way she sags against me plucks a chord of worry.
“Hey, sweetheart.” Touching her chin, I tilt her face up toward me. “How are you doing?”
“I’m good.” She’s not. And this is just what I was worried about when Thea insisted on staying at her condo on her own.
The signs couldn’t be clearer. Bluish shadows under her eyes, tiny lines of stress across her forehead, her skin much paler than it should be. The set of her shoulders, high and tight. The way her smile wavers a little, like it’s an effort to keep it there.
It’s been over a week since she had the flashback and with the exception of that first night, she’s spent the rest of them alone. I’ve seen Thea in the evenings and during the daytime, but she refuses to stay with me overnight. Even though she’s been at my house and I ask her to stay, by ten or eleven she’s heading back to her condo with Cole or Leo escorting her.
She says she’s okay, but I’m worried.
Now isn’t the time to get into it, but later, once Laila’s in bed—we are going to talk about this.
“Ben? Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, sweetheart.” I kiss her on the forehead. “Let’s head out. I already placed the order at D’Andrea’s, so the food should be ready by the time we get there.”
“Okay.” She takes my hand, leaning into my side. “Laila. Are you ready to go?”
A minute later, we’re headed back toward my SUV, Thea holding my hand on one side, Laila the other. And my heart actually seizes for a second.
This. This is what I was missing.
We’re nearly at the road when a nasally voice calls out, “Thea?”
And Thea goes absolutely stiff, her hand like ice in mine.
As I’ve learned living in a small town, it’s nearly impossible to go anywhere without running into someone you know. Most of the time, I like it. It’s the kind of place I wanted to raise Laila, where people watch out for each other and there’s a sense of community.
But sometimes it’s the opposite. When there’s a person you’d rather not see. And while I don’t know the older woman walking toward us, it’s obvious that Thea does.
For a second, I consider shoving Thea inside my SUV and pretending we didn’t hear the woman approaching us.
Thea sucks in a sharp breath, and the tiny muscle in her jaw is twitching. Her voice is strained as she says, “Mrs. Richardson. Hi.”
The woman appears to be in her sixties, with silver hair smoothed into a perfect bob. Everything about her says money—diamonds glinting, designer logos on her purse and glasses, expensive looking clothes—and she has this disdainful expression, like she’s better than anyone around her.
