Lennox shook her head. “I’m not talking about yours.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, stepping closer. “Did Cook make too many?”
“You know how he is about wasting food. He made surethere was enough for everyone, and we counted the bags together while I helped him put them together.”
No, no, no. I glanced back over the room, mentally taking a roll call and ticking off familiar faces, even though some part of me already knew who was missing.
By the time I met my sister’s gaze, I was ready to throw up all over the linoleum floor. “Charlie,” we said at the same time.
I thought back, mind racing to remember the last place I saw her. She was there when we lined up for lunch, but my mind couldn’t place her in this room. Had she gotten lost trying to go to the bathroom? Had she managed to stay behind in the arena somehow? There were no animals out there, so I didn’t see why it would be of any interest to her, but what if she’d wandered through the fence to find some?
“Hey guys! Listen up!” I clapped my hands forcefully this time, which seemed to work as twenty-seven little heads swirled my way. “Has anyone seen Charlie? I’d hate for her to miss lunch.” I tried to smile, but it didn’t reach my eyes. “I know how hungry she was!”
Most of the kids shook their heads before quickly turning back to their meals, but Jeremy quietly got up out of his seat and made his way over. “I did, Miss Cleo. We saw a treehouse earlier, and she said she wanted to see it.” He ducked his head. “I told her it wasn’t a good idea to go alone, that we’d get in trouble, but she said she’d be right back.”
I bent down and grabbed his little hands. He looked scared and sad. “It’s okay, Jeremy. You’re doing the right thing. How long ago? Was it before we came in here, or did she slip out?”
Jeremy chewed on his bottom lip. “Um, it was before we came in here. She slipped out of line after you and Miss Lennox took roll.”
I closed my eyes, giving a gentle, reassuring squeeze before standing. “Thank you for telling us. Now, go finish your lunch, okay?”
He nodded before heading back to his seat. Lennox came over, running a hand along the back of her neck. “What can I do?”
“Stay here with them,” I said, nodding behind her. “Maybe text Bishop and ask him and the hands to be on the lookout for her. I’ll check the arena and then head to the treehouse.”
She nodded and gave a small salute. “Yes, ma’am.”
I turned around and quickly scanned the stalls and the bathrooms to make sure she hadn’t gotten lost wandering back. All were empty. And when I finally stepped into the arena, the breath I’d been holding threatened to choke me.
“God-fucking-dammit,” I cursed, rubbing my temple. I looked up and stared through the thick steel fence to the treeline up ahead for a moment before I slipped through the bars and into the field.
I wished I’d let Dad demolish the stupid thing years ago when he talked about having it rebuilt, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. Even though I’d been remarried, even though I cursed his name every chance I got, that damned treehouse was one of the last things I had of Grady. A remembrance of summer love, heated kisses, and sweet moments that never failed to make my heart ache and keep me up at night.
I might as well have kept it as a shrine to my youth, a hidden memorial that never let me forget the memories it held. It wasn’t like it got much use anymore. Though I supposed that would change in a few years, since my parents finally had their first grandchild to spoil. I hoped, for my own sake, that Josie’s daughter could make it her own. Maybe then I wouldn’t be filled with dread at the thought of seeing it again.
Last October had been the exception. It’d been the one time in years I’d let myself settle into grief that was so bone deep, I knew there was nowhere else I could go. That sanctuary in the trees understood my pain. It knew what I’d lost, and it mourned right along with me.
I stood beneath the thick oak branches, staring up at the open hatch. “Charlie? Are you up there, honey?” Silence greeted me, which did nothing but increase my anxiety. “It’s okay if you are. You’re not in trouble, I’m just worried.”
This time, the wood groaned like someone was moving. I could make out the briefest hint of blonde hair through the hatch. “That’s what Mommy and Daddy say before telling me they’re disappointed.” She paused, sniffling. “I don’t want you to be like that, Miss Cleo.”
“Oh, honey…” I said, softening my voice. “I’m not disappointed, okay? I promise. I was worried, though, and I will be until we get you down from there. Do you think you can do that for me?”
“I—I’m scared,” she whimpered. “I don’t think I like heights very much.”
Just like her father.
I was stuck somewhere between pride that she did something that terrified her and sorrow knowing she’d been up here all alone for the past twenty minutes. “That’s okay! I’m right here,” I assured her. “Do you think you could try, or do you want me to come up to get you?”
“C—Can you help me?”
Charlie didn’t need to ask twice. I was already testing the ladder’s strength. It’d been fine when I used it in October, so it should be fine now. “I’m on my way. Just sit tight.”
cleo
. . .
I tookmy time climbing up, making sure I wasn’t going to end up falling and landing on my back. When I finally reached the top, I popped my head and saw Charlie sitting in the corner. Her knees were pulled up to her chest, her arms wrapped tightly around them. My heart broke as I noticed the dried tear tracks on her cheeks.
