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Despite his hostility, there was something else fueling his emotions, something indiscernible as his chest heaved and he struggled for breath. Something like fear.
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m glad you had fun out wherever you were because I just took your sister to the hospital. The hospital, Kaden. And I couldn’t even stay with her because I had to come home and search for my missing son!” His voice cracked on the words, and Kaden’s face fell, the hard lines morphing from righteous anger to panic.
“What’s wrong?” He stepped forward, his arms outstretched, reaching for an explanation, while Abby watched, her stomach at the ground by her feet.
“What happened?” Kaden asked again.
The muscles in Mr. Oliver’s jaw twitched before he found his voice. “Sophie spiked a fever, and when I tried to get her up, she was listless, not responding. Her gaze wouldn’t focus. Imagine being scared to death at your unresponsive daughter, then running to your son’s room, where you think he’s studying only to find him gone. Gone!” His voice rose and fell as it cracked with emotion.
Mr. Oliver ran his hands over his face, holding them over his eyes for a moment like he could somehow press back the rising tide inside.
With her chest tight, Abby glanced at Kaden. He stood stone-still, looking every bit shell-shocked, staring at the grass by his feet.
When his father dropped his arms, he said, “I need to get back to the hospital.”
“I’m coming,” Kaden said, voice shaking.
Nodding, Mr. Oliver headed toward his car in the driveway.
Abby reached out and placed a hand on Kaden’s arm. “Kaden, I—”
“I think you’d better go,” he said, without meeting Abigail’s gaze, and before she could say anything else, he was gone—hurrying toward the waiting car.
ABBY’S WHOLE WEEKEND was a bust. She had yet to hear from Kaden.
Had it really only been a week since she ran him over with her car? It felt like he’d always been a part of her life, and she hated not being able to see him. She longed for his presence, his twinkling brown eyes, his sober expression, the sound of his voice...
If only he had a dang phone.
She crossed her legs, tucking them underneath her and sinking further into the mattress of her bed, her thoughts consumed with what may or may not have happened to Kaden’s sister. What if Sophie was severely ill or worse? The thought terrified her, along with the knowledge no matter how his sister was doing, this incident would cause Mr. Oliver to shut down and be even more protective of him. If Kaden was discouraged from having a social life before, he certainly wasn’t going to be free to have one now. And if something terrible did happen to Sophie, would Kaden blame her? Would he resent her for having him sneak out of the house on the night she fell ill?
Abby clutched the roots of her hair, staring down at her open laptop and squeezed her eyes shut. Even the papers they found at Leanne’s weren’t enough to keep her occupied. A quick internet search confirmed the Department of Justice was closed for the weekend. She left a message for the head of the Special Investigations Unit to call her back, but she wasn’t expecting much. After all, if Mr. Klein couldn’t tell her anything because of client confidentiality and Mr. Oliver couldn’t, what were the chances this guy could? It seemed playing by the rules led to one giant roadblock.
As for the Belladonna that killed Lawson, she researched the plant—a bush with bell-shaped flowers and shiny black berries. She had never seen it before and wasn’t sure identifying it would benefit them, but she saved the pictures on her phone, regardless. The only other piece of the puzzle was Anna Gutman, and she had yet to determine how to handle her phone call, which left her temporarily empty-handed and clueless as to what to do next.
It seemed that without Kaden she was stuck.
Looking for something else to take her mind off of everything, she shut her laptop and wandered downstairs. Her mother sat at her desk in the parlor, head bent over a stack of files, likely work she brought home for the weekend in an effort to catch up after her time off. Not wanting to disturb her, Abby made her way toward the family room. The sounds of the television trickled into the hall as she neared.
When she rounded the corner and entered, she watched a moment as her grandfather stared at the spot just below the television. His gaze was cloudy and unfocused, clearly not watching the sitcom in front of him.
Maybe she wasn’t the only one that needed a reprieve from her thoughts.
Clearing her throat, she entered the room. “Hey, Grandpa. Whatcha doin’?”
He blinked over at her a moment before he smiled. “Oh, just watching one of these goofy shows.”
“Is it a good one?”
He gave her a noncommittal shrug and grunted, slumping back into the armchair. Dark rings circled his eyes, speaking of lost sleep. Abby had always thought he looked younger than his years. Her mother used to tease him that he robbed the cradle with GG, but that no one would know it, and he’d quip back, insisting his good looks and youthful face were a sign of good breeding.
But today, he looked every bit his age.
Parentheses creased his mouth, and the wrinkles surrounding his eyes threatened to swallow them whole.
“You wanna get out of here?” Abby asked.
He glanced at her, his eyes wide. “Where to?”
