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“You tell me, is it?”
I frown. “What do you mean? Are Tati and Bean all right?”
“They’re fine. But your boyfriend up and left work some time ago without telling anyone. Know anything about that?”
“What? You serious?” Jarett wouldn’t do that. He respects Matt and Kaden. He’s happy working there. “When?”
“Probably an hour, hour and a half ago. Went in to ask him something and he wasn’t there, or anywhere in the garage. He hasn’t talked to you?”
“No.” And now I’m worried. “I’ll call him.”
“You do that. I tried his phone, but he won’t answer.”
Crap. “On it. Talk to you later.”
My fingers tremble as I search for Jarett’s number. He was acting weird early this morning when I woke up to find him staring at the ceiling. What could have kept him up?
The call connects, and it rings and rings.
No reply.
Where could he be? He doesn’t have his apartment anymore. He could be with his gang, doing something bad, but he’d have let Matt know if he had to go.
Right?
There’s one more place he might be, and my gut tells me I may find him there.
Grabbing my stuff from the classroom, pulling on my red jacket, I Uber over to the nursing home.
“They have just taken her away,” a kind nurse tells me when I ask for the room of Becky Lowe. “I’m sorry.”
“Taken her where?”
“Oh my God, you don’t know? Are you family?”
“No, I…” I grip the edge of the reception desk. “I’m a family friend. What happened?”
“I’m sorry. Mrs. Lowe passed away this morning.”
Passed away.
Oh no. “Is Jarett here?”
“Her son? He was with her.” She comes out from behind the desk to look down the hallway. “I didn’t see him go. He may be gathering her things in her room? It’s the third one down the hall.”
Not wasting another second, nodding in thanks, I hurry over to the room and open the door.
He’s there, sitting in a padded chair in front of the TV. A program is playing on mute. His hands are gripping the armrests, his head is bowed. I don’t think he’s watching the program, but whatever is playing in his mind’s eye.
I walk over to him, kneel in front of him, and take his hands. “Jarett.”
His head lifts slightly, his gaze unfocused. He looks from our hands to my face. His lips form my name.
“I’m here. I heard about your mom. I’m so sorry.”
He nods and grunts. He doesn’t seem be able to talk. His hands are cold in mine. I rub them, trying to warm them up.
“I tried to call you, but you wouldn’t answer,” I say. “Matt tried as well. We were worried.”
