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Where else would she go?
If she’s new in the city and she came here to be close to her daughter, there’s only one other place I can think of. Unfortunately, we’ll have to ask E.A. for the address.
Daughter’s place maybe?
I lean against the wall, waiting for his reply.
He’s pretty slow, probably because he refuses to use predictive texting.
It’s easy to forget, because we hardly spend enough time apart to justify texting each other.
We’re not going there.
It takes me a second to realize why. Her daughter has mates. If that’s where she is, those mates have seen their girl’s mom upset over an encounter she just had with us. There’s no way in hell going over there and asking to speak to her would be a good idea.
I knock on the door again, louder.
My phone vibrates in my hand.
Put the envelope under her door.
I let out a sigh as I crouch down, putting the phone back in my pocket. I take the envelope out from under my arm and push it under the door. It hits resistance immediately, which seems kind of weird.
I move it along a little and the same thing happens.
Something’s on the other side of the door.
She’s definitely home.
I stand up and knock again, this time calling out after, “Leanne? Are you home? It’s Echo. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
I wait, chewing on my lip.
My phone vibrates in my pocket.
I ignore Spencer. He can wait.
I’m more worried about Leanne.
Why isn’t she answering?
I knock again, looking at the peephole before I call out again. “Leanne? Please, just let me know you’re okay. That’s literally all I need to hear. Please?”
Please, please, let her be okay.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Leanne
The far-away sound that breaks through the silence isn’t very loud, but it doesn’t show any signs of stopping. I think I can hear someone calling my name. That’s strange. No one really knows me here.
Except Secret and her mates.
Thinking of my daughter brings me out of the murky sleep paralysis state I was dragged into by whoever’s at my front door. I wake up like someone flicked a switch inside me.
I push the covers away as I sit up, wincing at the stain my bleeding wound has left on the sheets.
My hair is still wet, so I can’t have been sleeping for long.
