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Once in the car, I let myself wonder where he is.
I tell myself it’s not worry I feel, but it doesn’t change the ugly truth. Trent is religious about his volunteer work. There have been a handful of times he hasn’t gone, and it’s usually planned out ahead of time. Not sudden like this.
The drive takes less time than usual, or maybe it just feels quicker because I don’t have to deal with Trent giving me dirty looks.
Technically, it’s way more peaceful—and spacious. His large presence and ego in a car are almost too much for the space. But it’s also a stormy experience, with my brain working in overdrive to convince myself I’m not worried.
We arrive about twenty minutes later.
Doesn’t matter how many times I’ve come here, my breath still leaves my body from how beautiful this place is.
It’s not a home.
It’s a sanctuary.
Peaceful and calm.
Flowers and fountains greet me as soon as my body leaves the car.
Even the fragrance is different in Cresthill.
It’s as if I’m walking through a field of lilies. A floral scent, rich and sweet. Too strong to be anything but natural.
Like always, my coiled-up muscles relax as I make my way through the large lobby. I head straight in and see Margret.
She doesn’t spot me at first.
No, her gaze is looking in the opposite direction.
I follow it.
That’s when I see Trent.
He’s not alone.
Nope.
He’s with a man who looks to be in his late thirties.
I’m confused. He’s way too young to be a resident, and I’ve never seen him visiting or volunteering.
I continue to watch them walk, and it’s when they walk up to Henry that my heart starts to rattle in my chest.
Oh, Trent. You didn’t . . .
They stop at the table in front of Henry. Henry hasn’t seen them yet, but when he does, my world shifts on its axis.
He did.
Henry’s jaw trembles first. Then his hands. They shake uncontrollably as he reaches out to the man. Small tremors wrack out of him until a pair of strong arms reach out and help him stand.
Tears roll down his cheeks, and then the man, the one I don’t know, is hugging him.
“W-who . . .”
I can’t speak.
My throat feels like it’s closing.
