“Are you sure?” Crypt pretended to make the turtle hiss.
Rylee covered her mouth, giggling.
“Should we keep him?”
She nodded at Crypt as she dropped her hands. “He’s a good turtle.”
“Then he stays.” Crypt propped the turtle on her bed. “He looks like Mr. Lumpy Back. Is that his name?”
Rylee snickered. “No. It’s Green Turtle.”
He glanced at me, waiting for my input. “I sort of like Mr. Lumpy Back.”
Rylee pointed at the turtle. “He’s just Green Turtle, that’s it.”
We left her to play and headed out to the living room. Both of us flopped onto my couch. I was the one who moved first, crawling over to him before sliding between his legs to rest my head on his chest.
“I think Rylee likes you. She hasn’t laughed as much with Hannibal as she has with you in the last few days.”
“Shit. Don’t tell him. He’ll make it his mission to correct it,” Crypt laughed.
He was right. Nobody one-upped my dad when it came to his granddaughter.
“It’s awfully quiet back there,” he observed a short time later. “Do you think she fell asleep?”
“Maybe. I’ll go check.”
I got up from the couch, walking in my socks to my daughter’s room. She was coloring with a ton of craft supplies spread out on the floor around her.
“That looks pretty. Where did you find all these markers?”
“In the box in the kitchen.” She went back to coloring, trying hard to stay in the lines.
I didn’t have a clue what box she was talking about. We kept our craft supplies inside a tote with plastic drawers. It organized all the little pieces so that Rylee made less of a mess whenever she wanted to color, draw, or paint.
I wandered into the kitchen after seeing Rylee and noticed the box right away. It wasn’t one we brought with us, and it wasn’t outside when we pulled up and parked.
I grabbed the flaps and checked for an address label. Nothing. The only thing I saw was my daughter’s name written in black Sharpie on the top. Someone delivered this while we were all inside today.
I shivered, trying to ignore the sudden fear that overtook me. “Crypt? Can you come here, please?”
“Sure, babe.” He walked into the kitchen, stopping as soon as he saw the box. “Fuck.”
Yeah, fuck. That seemed an appropriate response.
“When did it arrive?”
“I don’t know. Within the last couple of hours.”
Crypt frowned. “Whoever dropped this off knows we’re here with Rylee. We need to move. Now.”
I understood his urgency and felt it. My stomach threatened to expel the lunch we had recently eaten as I struggled to breathe.
“Hey, it’s okay. I’m here. We’re good, babe. You get Rylee. I’ll grab our bags. We’re just gonna take another trip. Go somewhere safe. Okay?”
I nodded, but this wasn’t okay. Not at all.
We never had a chance to unpack. It was easy to add a few more things to the bags and bring them into the living room while Crypt spoke on the phone. He kept his voice low, but I could tell he was agitated.
