Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56182 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56182 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
That was my one goddamn job.
And I failed at it.
I had failed her.
So badly that she now couldn't trust me to do a better job in the future.
So badly that she thought the only answer was to run off, find someone to turn her into an even more lethal weapon than she already was.
And then what?
Even if she managed to sneak away with all of us looking for her, what was the plan?
Weeks?
Months?
God, years?
I couldn't fucking fathom that reality.
"She said she was going to call or write," Iggy said, seeming to sense my worry, my uncertainty, my confusion. "She said as soon as she lands somewhere, she was going to get in contact. She doesn't want you to worry."
Right.
Like there was any chance of us not worrying.
For however long she was gone.
Didn't matter if four years passed, she was over twenty, and had a life of her own going. I would still worry. Every fucking moment of the day.
And Summer.
Fuck.
Summer.
She had to have known what this would do to her mother, her mother who already felt guilty about the entire V situation as a whole even though she had no hand in it, couldn't help where she had come from.
And she had just started to come back to us. After Lyon's murder right there in front of her eyes. After the long spell of grief that came from that.
Then this fucking V shit.
And now Ferryn was going off on her own.
At sixteen years old?
Couldn't even drive a car yet, and she was going to make a life for herself without us?
God, I hoped she at least had the sense to take money. Hell, fucking drain the account for all I cared. Whatever she needed so she never felt desperate, never had to stay in unsafe areas, never had to defend herself against predatory hands again.
"Anything else you can think to tell me, Iggs?" I asked, watching as she seemed to replay the whole situation in her head.
"I gave her a piece of jewelry to hock if she needs it. And my laptop."
"You're a good kid, Iggs. I'll pay you back for that."
"That's not necessary," Vance cut back in.
"It is," I countered. "And if you two need anything, you let me know. You two did everything you could to help me find my girl. I won't forget that."
They left a few minutes later.
I didn't see Iggs for years.
Or the dark-haired guy who used to sit in the driveway not looking at my daughter.
Not until he showed up at my gates for a third time.
Calling in his marker.
Wanting to prospect.
But that was a story for another day.
--
Summer
Everyone was watching me as though they expected me to splinter apart.
Maze had called in the girls club like some emergency intervention, like they would all be there with tweezers and glue in case I needed to be put back together.
My daughter was gone.
My daughter who I had spent every single day with for sixteen years... was gone.
The most surreal part of that whole realization was that it couldn't overtake everything, it couldn't change the fact that, well, even with her absence a giant hole in our home, in our hearts, life had to go on.
Dishes still piled in the sink, needing to be cleaned. Laundry piled in the hampers, needing to be washed. My hollow-legged boys still needed three - or, let's face it, at their age... five - square meals a day. Homework needed to be done. Bills needed to be paid.
Life had to keep moving forward.
Even as her bedroom collected dust bunnies in corners.
Even as her library books went so overdue that Reese showed up to the house to retrieve them herself.
Even as our phone didn't ring.
Even as our mail never brought word from her.
And I couldn't get a moment alone to process the whole situation. Even when the boys went back to school, giving me my mornings and early afternoons.
Even then, the times when I was usually left to my own devices to catch up on chores, or wallow as I wanted to do now, there was no peace.
Someone showed up at the door with food, with plans to go out, with demands I come back to training.
As if keeping me busy could make me forget that my daughter was missing. That a giant chunk of my life was gone. That life would never again be the same.
At least not until she came home.
If she came home.
"Mom," Fallon said, making me jolt hard away from the potato I was supposed to be peeling as Reign sat just a few feet away, casting worried glances in my direction every few minutes.
"Yeah, bud?" I asked, forcing a small smile.
"Where's Ferryn?" he asked.
He hadn't.
Asked.
Finn had.
Twice.
He was younger.
He was easier to placate with a careful white lie.
Fallon?
Yeah, he was getting older, smarter.
And, like I had come to expect from him with his quiet introspection, he bided his time, weighed his words.