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"Please, drink this."
She lets out an exhausted huff, but to my surprise, she accepts my offer. She licks her lips after taking a few sips, and gazes at the milk.
"Oh, you put anise in the milk? I like anise." Her little remark makes my heart flutter for a moment. Before I know it, her mug is empty and her voice whispers. "Thank you." She takes my hand and squeezes it. "I'm tired, Nick. I know I should rest, but..."
The fragility in her voice cuts deep into my flesh.
"But I can't… What if my little girl is...?"
"Please, Angel. Don't finish that sentence. We'll find her."
We stay silent for over twenty minutes; the ticking of the wall clock is the only sound we hear, but when I notice she's dozing off, I shift off my seat and squat in front of her. I lift her chin. She's fighting to keep her eyes open. "Please, my love. Don't fight it. You need to rest. Don't worry. I'll be awake."
She tries to say something back, but it's nothing more than a mumble. I carry her in my arms, and since Bella's sleeping in the master, I place her in Charlotte's bed.
"Forgive me, Emma," I say, placing a kiss on her forehead and tugging her in. "But this was the only way. Rest, my love."
I sit next to her, taking her in as her chest rises and falls with every breath. The tranquilizer pill worked. I know it's not ethical. But I had to do something. I asked her friends for help. They agreed Emma was wearing herself out. Alisha gave Bella one of the tranquilizer pills she got from her doctor. She said it would help her mind relax so her body could rest for a few hours. I mixed the content of the pill into the warm milk I gave her. To camouflage the taste, I added anise and sugar.
I stare at Emma's face. Since her girl went missing, worry lines have taken over her beautiful features. My eyes wander from Emma through Charlotte's room, and a sharp pain flows through me when I spot a picture next to the door. I walk over and inspect the hand-drawn picture. My throat clenches. Two figures holding hands, and she named them—Giant and me. In the back, she drew what looks like an animal with sharp claws.
Tears flood my eyes as I remember our conversation at the zoo. The one wherein she told me she feared her father was a bear. A single tear falls down my cheek as I touch the drawing. I told her I would always protect her from them. Oh, God, Smarty. I'm sorry I wasn't able to protect you. I place my forehead against the wall and pray. Please, dear God, Universe, keep Charlotte safe, guide us to her and let her come home. We need her; we need our angelic sunshine.
I walk out of the bedroom, close the door, and roam through the silent house. Now that both women are asleep, I'm alone with my thoughts. And God… there are plenty. My eyes wander over the kitchen, and my mind drifts to the fight I had here with Thomas. I can't believe he's dead.Who would kill him, and why? I pace up and down while running my hands through my hair when a light switch flips on and highlights one word. My fingers stop midway through my brown locks. A stream of heavy nausea washes over me.
NO! It can't...
My hands fly over my outfit and when I find my phone, I pull it out and stare at it. God, why didn't I think of that earlier? Without waiting, I dialed the number I thought I erased from my memory. But it seems I only pushed it into the back of my subconscious. My fingers press the number without hesitating. I bring the device to my ear, and I glare at the wall clock. 1.32 am. It takes a few rings, but then a female voice comes through, and my blood turns cold.
"If it isn't my sweet Nicky," Cindy says in a sugar tone.
"Where is she?"
The woman I once loved lets out an icy chuckle.
"God, what is it with men and children these days? Every time one of those little, annoying things comes into their lives, it changes them into soft pussies."
My blood is rampaging through my veins, as she does not deny my suspicion.
"Cindy, where is Charlotte?"
"Oh, cool down. That little brat is still alive. At least for now."
The tone in which she speaks makes my brain go on high alert.
"Tell me where you are. I'll come over, and we can talk."
"Oh, now you want to talk? You know, I don't know if I want to talk anymore."
"Cindy, please."
For a few moments, she says nothing, but the ticking of heels tells me she's walking around.
"Fine. Remember the cottage I inherited from my aunt?"
My mind races to remember. "You mean that place by the woods you hated?"
"Yep, and I still hate it. Thinking of setting it on fire. I'm done with it."
