Page 112 of Three Months Yesterday

The words repeat on a frantic loop in my head. Someone was in the house. Madison walked into God knows what, alone, pregnant, and I’m four hundred miles away sitting on Ryan’s couch while he makes fun of me.

I was counting down the days until I could hold her again, until I could feel that little nudge hello. Now⁠—

“Beckett?” Ryan’s voice sounds distant, like I’m underwater.

I can’t answer. My hands shake, my whole body locked in place, paralyzed by the weight of what might be happening to her—to them.

I’m not there. I didn’t protect her.

I never protect the people I love.

My parents. I was behind the wheel that night and I couldn’t stop it, couldn’t save them.

And now Madison and Shepherd.

“Beckett.” Ryan’s hand closes around my wrist, grounding me. His voice is sharp and it cuts through the fog. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

I force the words out, each one tasting like ash. “Madison’s in danger.”

Ryan’s face goes white, his eyes widening as he processes the words. For a second he just stares at me, his breathing going shallow. Then he straightens, his jaw setting in a line I recognize from years of watching his determination and grit.

“Okay,” he says, his voice steady. “Okay. Let’s get you home.”

My voice sounds strange to my ears, hollow and far away. “It doesn’t matter what I do. I’m not there. I wasn’t there when she needed me.”

“Beckett.” Ryan’s voice cracks like a whip. “Snap out of it. Sitting here in a stupor isn’t helping Madison.”

I blink at him, dumbfounded.

He leans forward, planting a hand on the back of my head to make me focus on him. “You’re exactly where Madison told you to be. You left Ian there to keep her safe, but none of that matters anymore. All that matters is how you react now.”

Indignation flares hot and sudden in my chest, burning through the ice. I want to yell and rage, to tell Ryan he doesn’t understand, but the feel of my phone vibrating in my hand stops me.

Wyatt’s name flashes across the screen this time.

Without thinking, I answer and press the phone to my ear. “Wyatt?”

“Beckett.” Wyatt’s voice is calm, controlled, but I hear the tension underneath it—the fear. “I was with Aiden when he got the call. They’re going to get her out. There’s no other option.”

I close my eyes, praying he’s right. They have to get her out. I can’t survive losing my family again.

“But right now, I’m focused on getting you home. You need to be here when she’s safe again.” His words crack on the word safe and he has to pause, take a breath. “I’ve got a buddy in Boston. He’s already gearing up to fly you home. All you need to do is get to the airport. We’ll handle the rest.”

“Okay.” The word is barely more than a breath.

“Beckett.” Wyatt’s voice softens, emotion swelling in his words. “We’re going to bring her back to you.”

I nod, knowing he can’t see me, but I don’t have the words. My hands have stopped shaking when I pull the phone away from my ear. The fog has cleared from my head enough to move, a single thought running through my mind: get to Madison.

Ryan’s already on his feet, pulling his keys from his pocket. “I’m with you.”

I don’t answer. I walk toward the door, my phone clutched in my hand like a lifeline. Someone will call when they have news, when they have Madison safe again.

The plane lurches as we lift off, the familiar pressure pressing me back into the seat. My eyes stare out the window at the shrinking city below, but I can’t see anything. It’s bright, the sun is shining, but nothing breaks through the haze.

Every second feels like an hour. Every mile I’ve traveled away from Madison since the start of March feels like a mistake I can’t undo.

Ryan sits beside me, his quiet presence a comfort I’m grateful for. I wish I had words to give him, to tell him how much it means to me, but I can’t find them.