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Chapter 20
The first twelve hours.
The police put out an AMBER alert for Charlotte a half-hour after officer Jenny left my house. They broadcast it through radio, TV, road signs, cell phones, and other data-enabled devices. We made the important phone calls. First, I called Bella, who burst out in tears on the other side. She told me she would inform Alisha.
Nick called Cole, Brian, Amanda, and his mom and dad. Brian, the sweetheart, asked for a picture to hang all over his bar Six-Pack, and when Nick called his parents, the pain in his voice as he told them what happened got to me. Dammit, he blames himself. But it isn't his fault.
Then the waiting part started. For the first twelve hours, we both kept hoping and waiting for that one phone call that would release us from this nightmare. I rushed outside with every sound I thought could be Charlotte. But every time, it wasn't.
We received many calls from people giving their support. Even Clair of Clair's diner called me to tell me she saw the AMBER alert, and she said she would put up my girl's picture in her store.
Slowly, the minutes turned into many more. And after twenty-four hours, the fear sat on me like a pillow over my mouth and nose. Enough air gets by it, allowing my body to keep functioning, but it's crippling.
Charlotte, please, baby, come back.
The next day, Jenny came over with a family counselor who asked us if we wanted to talk, but I told her no. Talking about it makes it too real. And I… I can't… The woman accepted my answer but left her card on the kitchen table.
Forty-eight hoursof the critical time in which finding a missing person is essential has gone by. Jenny called this morning with the message they hadn't found Charlotte yet. They're still following up on different leads, but none of them has led to finding my girl. The void, the black hole in my head and soul, swallows all my hope. I'm here, and I'm not. I'm paralyzed.
Bella is sleeping at the moment. She's staying here to give us support. The only time she leaves is to visit Alisha, who wants to leave the hospital, but the doctors won't discharge her yet. Now it's midnight, and I haven't slept. How can I sleep when my baby is missing?
"Emma?" Nick's voice comes through.
Brown, green, blue, yellow.
"Emma?" His touch makes me turn. He's holding a cup of herbal tea in front of me. I fold my fingers around it, and I return to gazing into the night. Mumbling the colors Charlotte loves over and over in my head.
Brown, green, blue, yellow.
As Nick's footsteps withdraw, I keep listening, but there's no sound of little bare feet running through the house. There are moments I swear I hear her angelic voice say, “Mommy.” But when I search for her, she's nowhere.
I walk through my kitchen and grab the blender out of the cabinet and place it on the counter. Then I grab strawberries and yogurt out of the refrigerator and throw them in. My hand presses the on button, and the mixer's high sound fills the room. I grab a glass, and I pour the Yogurt strawberry smoothieinto the tall vessel.
I stare at the drink; the soft pink color reminds me of my little girl's cheeks. I turn and drag my feet into the bathroom. After I remove my clothes and turn on the shower, I step inside. Water cascades down my numb skin, and I lean my head against the bathroom wall as steam fills up the space. I don't know how long I've been in here, but suddenly two hands touch my shoulders. Nick. Without saying a word, he washes me, and I let him. He soaps up his hands, runs them through my hair, and uses a cloth to wash my body. After that, he guides me out, dries me off, and when he holds out my fluffy pink robe, I stick my arms in it. When he has placed a knot in it, he lifts my chin.
* * *
Her eyes have frozenover like the surface of a winter puddle, robbing them of their usual warmth. She's in there, I know it, but it's like she took a huge step back from life. I want to reach in and tell her it isn't hopeless, but she won't believe me. I want to rekindle her heat, but her insides are too damp with suppressed tears. The pain is visible on her face, and I wish it would go away. I would do anything to make it vanish. She didn't ask for this—it arrived like a gift she never wanted. And I'm to blame for it.
These last forty-eight hours have been pure hell. I've endured physical pain in bo stick training more times than I can count. But that's nothing compared to this emotional suffering. It's like a heart and soul-destroying hurricane that keeps ongoing. I ignore the damage it is making, because I need to stay strong for my girl. Emma needs me now more than ever.
She has been awake for two days. I didn't think that was possible, but it is. It must be the strength of a mother's heart and a mother's love that keep her body going. But it's taking its toll on her. She has been throwing up at least once a day, and instead of eating, she shifts food around on her plate. The blue color under her eyes shows how bone-tired she is. She has to rest. Before Bella, I took a nap which was enough to strengthen my battery. But no matter what anyone says to her, she refuses to go to sleep. God, she’s slipping through my fingers, and I have to do something.
"Come on, Angel. Let's get you some warm milk. If you don't eat, you need to at least drink something.”
After I redress, she follows me out of the bathroom without a word. Once we're in the kitchen, she sits in a chair and gazes into space. I grab a pan and fill it with the white liquid. While it heats, I grab a large cup out of the cabinet, and a stab sears through my heart as I look at the text on the side. “For the best mommy in the world.”
God, Smarty. Please come back to us.
After pouring the warm drink in the cup, I stir it and walk over to Emma, where I place it next to her on the table. I take a seat next to her and notice her hand is holding and caressing the necklace I gave her.
"Emma? Sweetheart. Talk to me. Say something. Anything."
Her chin lifts, and her empty green orbs stare at me.
"What is there to say? My little girl is missing, and no one knows where she is. It's been over forty-eight hours. What if she's hurt, or in pain, or…? My baby girl is God knows where, and I'm not with her. How do you all expect me to go to sleep?"
I swallow, but grab the cup with warm milk and hold it in front of her.
