“Oh, he’s already gone. His dad picked him up about five minutes ago.”
Maddy went cold. For a second, it felt as though a big black pit was opening up beneath her feet.His dad picked him up about five minutes ago.
“And you let him take him?” she demanded.
Mrs Porter straightened, looking puzzled. “Of course. You emailed us this morning to let us know, remember? Even included a picture of Rory’s dad so we could check it was him. He showed ID and everything. The school secretary has added him to the system as a primary carer, just like you requested.”
She had most definitelynotrequested that. Nor had she emailed the school. But she had a pretty good idea who had.
Rodric’s last letter floated into her mind.You can’t stop me from seeing him. I have rights. Don’t force my hand.
No. This could not be happening.
With a jolt of fear, she left Mrs Porter behind, and ran through the corridors, across the yard, and out of the school gates where she skidded to a stop. The wind was blustery, blowing around the branches of the trees and scattering the first of the spring blossom like snowflakes. Maddy turned in every direction, desperate to catch a glimpse of Rory.
You can’t stop me from seeing him. I have rights.
Over her dead body. Rodric had given up all his rights when he’d ignored Rory for the first four years of his life.
But Rodric MacKay, Maddy had learned the hard way, didn’t think the way most people did. He would not care that taking Rory from school without her permission wasnotokay, that hacking into her email and pretending to be her was illegal. What Rodric MacKay wanted, Rodric MacKay took.
Panic began to bubble in her throat, and she pulled her cell phone from her pocket to call the police.
But as the crowd at the bus stop across the road parted, she finally spotted Rory and his dad. They were crossing the park opposite the school, moving rapidly away from her. She could make out Rodric’s dark hair, his tall form and long stride, and he was holding hands with a small boy wearing the bright yellow coat Maddy had given him for his birthday.
“Rory!” she bellowed.
Maddy took off, sprinting across the road, heedless of the traffic, and into the muddy park.
“Rory! Rodric! Stop!”
They didn’t hear her. They were approaching the perimeter of the park, where an old bridge formed an arch across a stream that had long since run dry. But instead of going over the bridge, they climbed down the bank to the dry stream bed as if to go under it.
They paused just before the arch. Rodric said something to Rory, then they stepped under the bridge—
—and disappeared.
Maddy’s eyes widened in shock. She sprinted over and puffed to a stop at the spot where they’d been standing. She could see their footprints in the mud—a large pair and a much smaller one—but the tracks ended right here, and she couldn’t see them exiting the other side of the dry stream bed.
What the hell? Maddy looked around wildly, pulse racing. “Rory!” she screamed. “Rory!”
There was no sign of either of them. Her heart was thumping in her chest now and she could barely think straight for the fear pounding through her veins.
Think!she told herself fiercely.You can’t help Rory if you’re panicking.Sucking in a deep breath, she forced herself to calm down. Rory and Rodric couldn’t have gotten far. She’d almost reached them when they disappeared. All she had to do was figure out where they’d gone.
She examined the bridge. It looked ancient, made of large square blocks of stone that had moss growing between them. Rodric and Rory’s footprints seemed to go beneath the arch and then vanish. What? That made no sense! She squinted as something suddenly caught her eye. The air beneath the arch was rippling strangely. It looked like boiling water or theshimmer of heat-haze over a fire. She frowned and looked closer. What was that? Were thoseimagesshe could see in the air?
The images showed pine-clad hills and deep, sparkling lochs. She saw a small, lonely homestead nestled amongst those hills with smoke rising from the chimney.
Maddy closed her eyes, sure she was hallucinating, but when she opened them again, the images were still there. What the heck? Had she taken a whack on the head without realizing? Rodric and Rory’s footsteps led through the arch. If she was going to find them, she had to follow.
For some reason, the old woman, Irene MacAskill’s, words floated into her head.It takes courage, my dear, to turn from the path we are taking and choose another. Courage and faith and a willingness to take a leap into the unknown.
Maddy walked towards the arch. One step, two steps. Three. Now she was standing directly beneath the span of the bridge, her feet right next to the last set of Rory’s footprints. They looked so small and vulnerable. Her heart twisted. Was he frightened? Was he wondering where she was?
“I’m coming,” she whispered. “I’ll find you.”
Then she stepped through the arch.
