Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 106538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
“I can’t wait to tell Bandit I rode in a car.” Lola climbs out the opposite side and runs into the house.
I stay in the back seat and take a few deep breaths before fishing my phone from my purse.
Chapter Forty-Two
Ozzy
“Lola, dinner’s ready,” I call while towel drying my hair after a shower to cool my temper.
“Lola,” I call again, knocking on her door two times before opening it. She’s not in her room. I check the rest of the basement.
“Lola,” I call again on my way up the stairs. “Is she up here?” I ask Amos when I round the corner into the dining room, because I’m not talking to Tia.
He shrugs and shakes his head. I frown while pivoting.
After checking the back and front yards, the garage for her bike, and calling her name a half dozen times outside, I return to the house with my fucking heart ready to explode.
Amos and Tia have started their own search in the house. She’s not here. I checked everywhere.
“Did she go to one of the neighbors?” Amos asks when he reaches the top of the stairs. “Maybe she heard the arguing and decided to go to a friend’s house.”
I shake my head. “None of her friends live nearby, and her bike is still here.”
Jesus. Where is my child?
My phone rings. I can barely hear it because it’s downstairs. I fly in that direction, quickly answering Maren’s call. “I have to call you back, sorry. Lola’s missing, and I need to—”
“She’s with me.”
I shake my head. “What? No. Her bike is here. Are you here?” I turn in a circle. What am I missing? Is this a joke? Are they hiding?
Maren sniffles, and it’s like a gut punch. Something is wrong. “What happened to her? Just tell me.” I run a frustrated hand through my hair.
“She texted me and said you and Tia were fighting. She wanted me to come get her, but I told her I couldn’t ride a bike yet. And—”
“Maren! Dammit! Is my daughter okay?” My voice cracks because this feeling in my gut is unbearably painful. It’s the “Your wife is dead” or the “Your girlfriend’s plane crashed” feeling.
“Yes, Ozzy. She’s fine. We picked her up in my RAV and drove her back to my house because that’s what she wanted.”
I turn toward my bedroom door, where Tia and Amos are waiting. Tia has tears in her eyes, and her hand is cupped over her mouth. She knows something is wrong from my outburst, and she sees the panic on my face.
“What?” I whisper.
Maren laughs, or maybe she’s crying. I can’t tell. “Ozzy, Lola got into a vehicle, and I know she was scared but so damn brave too. And I didn’t push her to do it. She decided all on her own. I wanted to call you but didn’t want to jinx it or make her change her mind, so we just went with it. I wasn’t driving, my dad was, but he’s a very safe driver, and . . .” She trails off, out of breath, her words chasing one another like the world’s longest run-on sentence.
She sniffles. “When we got here, I sat in the back seat with her for five minutes before she whispered, ‘I did it,’ unbuckled, and ran into my house to tell Bandit.” Maren releases another laughing sob. “She wanted to tell the cat first. The cat, Ozzy.” She laughs some more.
“What is it?” Tia steps into my room, blotting her eyes, face contorted with worry. “Tell us!”
I slowly shake my head and whisper, “She’s fine.”
Ghosts aren’t my thing. I’ve never believed in them, and there’s never been a day where I felt a dead person’s presence. Sometimes, I’ve hoped Brynn was seeing something, like Lola striking out a batter in softball, but I’ve never felt her—until now.
“She’s fine, Ozzy. You’re both going to be just fine,” Brynn whispers as if she were alive with her lips at my ear.
Over the next week, Tia and Amos pack their belongings. As much as I’ve looked forward to this day, it’s bittersweet.
“She’s what you need,” Tia says while we watch from the porch as Lola follows Amos to the moving truck with the last box.
“I know. You’ve said this repeatedly.” I sigh.
Tia rests her hand on my back. “I’m not talking about Lola. I’m talking about Maren.”
I glance at Tia while she keeps her teary-eyed gaze on the moving truck.
She smiles, dropping her hand from my back to blot the corners of her eyes. “I hope you never lose a child. It changes you. Losing a child crushes your heart beyond repair. When the life you brought into this world leaves before you, happiness dies, and the emptiness in your chest fills with anger as you try to make sense of the incomprehensible.”