8
DANIELA
Disappointment is a small,petty thing compared to terror, but it still pinches.
Why didn’t Hawk stay?Or take me with him?
I breathe through it.He’s not running from me.At least that’s what I tell myself.
He’s running toward something he thinks will help.That’s who he is.Justice first.Always.
And what’s more just than bringing a child home?
I find Raven in the kitchen, clutching a mug she isn’t drinking, staring at the wall.
“I thought you went to bed,” I say.
“I tried.”She sighs.“But my husband-to-be now knows never to threaten me with a sedative again.Besides, I was on so many drugs when I was sick, I’m probably immune to the effects by now.”
Vinnie hovers at the island with his phone.“Sorry, babe.I’m just trying to?—”
“I know what you’re trying to do,” Raven interrupts.“And don’t.Belinda means as much to me as she does to you and Dani.”Then she turns to me.“Hawk will come through.”
“I know.”And I believe it.I’m just worried he’ll do something he’ll regret.
Vinnie meets my gaze.“He’s a stubborn son of a bitch, but he’s the one you want next to you in a foxhole.”He pauses a moment.“He’s a better man than I am.”
“Not true,” Raven says, almost automatically.
He shrugs.“I’ve done…things.Things I’d do again.But Hawk tries not to cross lines.If he does, it’s because he had no choice.”
Raven nods.“That’s all very true.”
I lean against the counter.“I can’t sit and wait.I’m going to search her room again.”
Vinnie’s eyes darken.“The cops asked us not to mess with anything.”
“They asked,” I say.“They didn’t forbid.They’re doing their job, and I’m going to do mine.”I lift my hands.“I won’t disturb anything we can’t put back.I’ll wear gloves.I’ll be careful.But there has to be something they missed.”
Raven starts to protest, stops, and swallows hard.“Take some shoe covers from the mudroom.And gloves from the pantry.All we have are those cheap plastic ones, but they’ll do.”
“Got it.”
I move.When I’m in motion I can think.In the mudroom, the house smells like lemon oil and fear.I pull the blue booties over my shoes and then put on the plastic gloves I grabbed from the pantry.
I pass back through the kitchen without looking at Raven and Vinnie and head to the foyer where I ascend the stairs.
Belinda’s room waits at the end of the hall.Her bed is made, pillow squared, curtains parted two inches like they always are.
Everything tidy.
Everything wrong.
“Hey, Bee,” I whisper to the doorway.“I’m coming in.”
I push the door open.
If I were eleven and wanted to tell someone I was running away without telling anyone I was running away, what would I do?If I were someone else, wanting to plant that story, what would I expect the adults to miss?
