“Can you bring me Goldie?” McKenna asks in a small voice.
I look around for a doll or stuffed toy.
“The cat.” She holds out her arms, waiting for her.
Sensing she’s being summoned, the yellow tabby hops off the table bench and leaps onto McKenna’s lower bunk. The girl lies back, stroking the cat’s fur as the uppity feline walks around herand tries to find a comfortable spot. Eventually, the cat curls up by the pillow, and McKenna’s eyes flutter closed.
After another hour or so without news, Paige ends up pulling out the jackknife couch that lowers into a bed, and we lie on it, side by side. I set my phone between it, and we both stare at it, waiting for updates. It’s the worst sleepover ever.
Somehow, we all manage to find sleep, and I don’t wake until I hear a key in the front door.
I jerk awake as the remaining three Tillmans walk inside. Behind them, the light of early dawn tints the sky periwinkle. Caleb’s conspicuous absence makes it hard to breathe.
Paige and I sit up, immediately awake. I meet Landon’s eyes, but he only shakes his head.
“Thank you for watching the kids, girls,” Mrs. Tillman says. Her face is gaunt, and her usually stylish hair is pulled back in a clip. Half of it hangs around her face, looking lifeless and flat.
All three sport dark smudges under their eyes from a sleepless night spent searching.
“More volunteers have arrived,” Mr. Tillman says, giving us an explanation I didn’t dare ask for. “Officer Hilden told us to try to get some sleep while they have other people out looking.”
“I don’t want to sleep,” Mrs. Tillman suddenly snaps. “Not when Caleb’s still out there.”
Paige and I excuse ourselves, knowing the family needs some alone time. We murmur our goodbyes, telling them to call us the moment they need us again.
Landon follows us out and closes the door softly behind him. His parents’ raised voices reach us, but they’re not arguing. They’re frantic.
“I’m going to see if Dad or Trenton is still here,” Paige tells us. “Maybe I can catch a ride home with one of them.”
She walks down the campground road.
Birds are already chirping from the trees, and though the morning air is frigid, it looks like it will be a pleasant day. It all seems too surreal. How is Caleb just gone? He was here yesterday morning—everything wasnormalyesterday morning.
Landon opens his arms to me, and I step into them without question. I bury my face against his chest and wrap my arms around him, holding him as tightly as I can. He doesn’t cry like Hunter, but I can sense he feels the guilt too. It’s not our fault Caleb took off, but there’s still all those “what ifs” floating around in our minds. What if we’d postponed our trip into Glenwood? What if we’d taken Caleb on his excursion?
He’d still be here.
“Are you going to try to get some sleep?” I finally ask him.
His head is bent down, his whole body curled in close to me, so his cheek rubs against my ear as he nods. “I want to be alert enough to look some more soon.”
“I’m going to lie down too. Call me if you need me, okay? Or if you hear anything?”
Landon nods, and we part, him going into the camper to join his grieving family and me heading toward my house.
The front door is locked, so I round the back. Not sure if Mom’s trying to sleep, I’m quiet as I slip in and softly shut the door behind me.
I hear whispers coming from the front room—Mom and Mark. They sound serious, and I don’t think it’s the time to interrupt them. I tiptoe past, hoping to slip into my bedroom undetected. But I freeze when I catch a glimpse of them.
Mom’s head rests on Mark’s shoulder, and she’s crying. His arms are around her, holding her like she’s precious. He murmurs something, and she looks up, tears streaming down her face. Then he kisses her softly, offering comfort.
Kisses her.
It’s like a punch to the gut, and I suck in a silent breath. I stumble back, feeling…deceived, I suppose. Not only are they betraying Dad, but they’re going behind my back to do it.
And it’s too much with everything going on—it might be too much all on its own. I slip down the hall without them ever seeing me, sobbing silently, wishing we could just erase the last twenty-four hours and start over.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
