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“Shopping is fun. I’ve been doing a lot of it.”
“Oh boy,” Dr. Charm said. “I know that look. I’ve seen it on a three-year-old. You’re toast.”
“Yep. Let’s go, Bella. The doctor has other patients.”
He helped her off the table, waited while she adjusted her crutches, then they left the office with another appointment for her cast next week.
“Are you going to the store now?”
“Yes. I’m going to drop you off and get you settled, then pick up what we need. Do you have anything to add to the list? Just text it to me.”
She pulled her phone out and started typing it, then his phone vibrated.
No reason to look at it.
They got home, and he helped her out, then settled her onto the couch with her foot up.
“Can you stop at the school and get some work for me?” Bella asked. “Two of my teachers sent me an email this morning and I don’t have the worksheets.”
“Sure, I’ll go get it before the store.”
Marly laughed when he complained he was now pretty much Bella’s servant.
But as long as his sister was happy, that was all he cared about.
And two hours later, when he was heading home from the store and ready to call it a day, his phone rang again, and he saw it was Holly.
It’d been four days since Bella texted her mother about her injury.
Nothing. Crickets.
And maybe that was why he was doing so much for his sister too.
Because she could have gotten her hopes up that Holly might have cared and yet she had blown her off during a time like this.
“What the hell do you want?” he asked when he answered the phone.
“Colson Ryder. This is Officer Alice Morrison.”
The dread filled the pit of his stomach. “Where did you find her?”
“You know who I’m calling about?”
The churning in his stomach increased. “Holly Morgan. This is her phone. Where did you find her?”
“In an alley. Someone called it in. Overdose.”
“Did you bring her back?” he asked, waiting for the answer that would change the course of everything again.
“Sorry. No. Looks like she’d been here a few days. The phone was in her pocket. I noticed your name and wondered if it was the same person. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.”
“Is it family?” Officer Morrison asked. Probably thought it was an informant.
“My father’s ex-wife.”
“Is there anyone we need to inform?” Officer Morrison asked.
