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“Of course, sweetie. Come here, baby girl. I’ll run to the store and grab some extra diapers and formula.”

Handing the carrier over, something odd washes over me. Worry. Panic. It feels sickening and begins to make my stomach curl.

What is the feeling? It’s almost like anxiety from separating.

“I already packed plenty, stopped off at the drugstore and got some.” I hand over the bag.

“Oh, well, aren’t we the organized parent,” Phoebe snickers. “I’ll go get changed.”

“Please,” I tell her with a sarcastic smile.

Good. I’m not going anywhere with her dressed like that. No matter how desperate I am. That getup is not cute.

Phoebe’s mom takes the carrier, lifting Katerina out and cradling her. She smiles, sings a nursery rhyme of some sort before Phoebe’s dad rattles off about not getting clucky ’cause his shop is dusty and old.

Ten minutes later, Phoebe enters the room again, this time dressed in a pair of jeans and a Rams hoodie. My favorite team. Maybe this bitch isn’t so bad, after all.

“You ready?” Phoebe asks, grabbing the keys off the entry table.

I take a moment to watch Phoebe’s mom with Katerina. She’ll be okay, right? I mean, it’s just a couple of hours. Why the hell is this bothering me so much?

It’s almost like I’m going to miss her.

“Let’s go,” I tell Phoebe, following her out the door until we’re standing in front of a beaten old red Toyota.

“What the hell is this?”

“My car. And please, Susan doesn’t like to be looked at that way.”

“Susan? You named this piece of shit, Susan?”

“Oh, sorry, Wesley Rich,” Phoebe mocks with a pout. “We can’t all drive Porches like you. Get the fuck in and let’s go find my best friend.”

“Fine, but if I die, it’s all your fault.”

She rubs her hands together, purposely lifting her brows, pleased. “Yes, because dying inside Susan would be fun. For fu

ck’s sake, grow a dick and get in the car.”

This bitch will be the death of me.

But I no longer care.

I’m one step away from finding Milana.

And that’s all that matters.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Milana

The lake is beautiful.

Dark, eerily peaceful with the moon’s reflection adding to its beauty. I envy it. The serenity, the way it’s so peaceful at night but during the day—it’s something else. It makes people happy and brings joy to many.

No matter what, it’s beautiful inside and out. Nothing at all like me.

There’s this constant heaviness weighing me down. I’ve been sitting on this rock for hours on end, staring, contemplating, and trying to extract any emotion to give me back my sanity. Whatever this is it has a hold on me, it’s in my bones and blood. It is everywhere I look and everywhere I am.

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