Page 67 of Well Aware

“Beau.”

We both looked to the side to see Black heading our way, in full uniform, looking thunderous.

“Hey,” I said. “What’s up?”

He came to lean on the fence beside me, his arm resting on the top of the fence. “I questioned your sister.”

Beau’s body pressed against my back, his hand wrapping around my waist to pull me in close to him. “What did she have to say?”

“That she’s not responsible,” he said. “And without blatant, full-on evidence, I can’t do anything more than question her. I do agree with you, however. I think that she’s responsible.”

Fuck.

“So that’s it? She just gets away with almost killing my daughter?” I asked, my back straightening.

“There’s nothing else I can do,” he said. “There were no cameras in that neighborhood—at least none that people are willing to share. Literally, it’s like every single person in that neighborhood decided to step back in time and all but revolt against technology.”

I sighed. “It was on my list.”

I even had the damn box sitting on the shelf in my laundry room. I’d opened it, read the directions, then decided that the installation would need more mental capacity than I was capable of. I hadn’t had the inclination to do anything since.

Which was horrible, because if I had it up, I might very well be able to put Seraphina behind bars before she hurt anyone else.

I looked away, my gaze skimming over the area.

My eyes spotted Iris as she pointed something out to Denver.

Jesus, had the timing not been what it was, I could’ve been standing here today while mourning my girl.

Iris said something to Denver and he nodded, whistling at me to get my attention.

I looked at him and he gestured toward the girl at his side.

I nodded, letting him know that it was okay if she came to me.

He reached up to help her down but…

“Iris, no!”

Too late.

She’d jumped.

The jump was too far, and her little legs gave out as she pitched forward onto her hands and knees.

Her head hit the water trough hard, and blood instantly started to well.

For the second time in a week, I saw bright red blood pouring down the length of my daughter’s face.

“Fuck,” I said as I started to hurry toward her.

Beau beat me to her, though.

He’d been deep in conversation with Black when I’d yelled, but he must’ve been paying attention to her in his periphery just like I’d been.

Instinctual. Like a parent would watch their own child.

When I got to her, Beau was already using his undershirt to stem the flow of blood from her head.