Page 119 of Forever Dark
She tore a scrap from a napkin dispenser ad sheet, scribbled down an address, and slid it across the table.
Selena took it.
Jessie watched her pocket the paper and sighed.“Why do I have the feeling you’re about to run off before finishing your milkshake?”
Instead of answering, Selena put the straw in her mouth and guzzled the rest of it down in one determined pull.
Jessie stared.
Selena sat back, closed her eyes, and clutched her forehead.“Ow.”
Jessie burst out laughing.“Brain freeze.”
Selena nodded without opening her eyes.“Yes.”Then she laughed too.
The laugh did them both good.
By the time she stood, urgency had fully returned.Donna Murphy.Another thread.Another woman who might have seen something.Or had something happen to her and never named it.
Hank appeared as if summoned by haste itself.
“You want that coffee to go?”
Selena was already reaching for her wallet.She set cash on the table despite Hank’s saying it was on the house.“Yes, please, Hank.”
Jessie stood, too.
For a second, they only looked at each other.Then they hugged, tighter this time, the kind of hug women gave when they both understood that apology alone was not enough but might still be a beginning.
Jessie pulled back first.“Don’t be a stranger.”
Selena held up the scrap of paper.“I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Jessie lifted one eyebrow as if to say she’d believe that when it happened.
Selena smiled and backed toward the door.“Thanks for this.”
Then she turned and dashed out.
Behind her, Hank shouted, “Wait!Your coffee!”But Selena never heard him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
The address led Selena ten miles out of Elmsview to a low brick building, set back from the road behind a stand of bare trees.
The sign by the entrance was plain enough to miss if a person was not looking for it.
OUR LADY HOUSE RECOVERY CENTER
A small parking lot sat out front with two staff cars, a church van, and a rusted pickup with one headlight missing.The wind moved dry leaves along the curb in little scraping bursts.Nothing about the place invited drama.That made the knot in Selena’s stomach worse.
She parked, killed the engine, and looked once at the note in Jessie’s handwriting before folding it and slipping it into her pocket.
Inside, the air smelled of that flat overheated scent buildings got when they were trying too hard to seem comfortable.The lobby held a few padded chairs, a Bible on a side table, and a stack of pamphlets about relapse prevention and family trauma.A television mounted high in one corner played a muted daytime talk show with captions nobody seemed to be reading.
A woman in lavender scrubs sat behind the front desk.
She looked up as Selena approached.“Can I help you?”
