Page 206 of Cinder
“Jesus Christ, Pen,” I mutter under my breath.
I’m already dragging my jeans off the floor before my brain fully catches up.
The house is quiet when I walk out into the hallway. Gus is snoring in the living room, and Penny’s coffee mug sits in the sink beside mine. Her keys are gone from the bowl, and so are the donation bags from the porch.
I tell myself that’s normal. She’s probably gone downtown. Went to Flora’s or Neverland for an hour. Or maybe she needed space to breathe after our conversation this morning and went for a jog.
But my pulse doesn’t believe me, so I tug the front door open, and that’s when I see it.
A silver heel lies near the edge of the driveway, tipped onto its side on the concrete.
Something uneasy moves low in my stomach as I walk over and pick it up. The leather’s warm from the sun, and soft against my palm where Elle scuffed the side.
I turn it over once in my hand, and then my phone’s already out of my pocket and calling before I’ve even consciously thought about it.
Straight to voicemail.
“Hey, Pen,” I say after the beep, trying to keep my tone even. “Call me back when you get this, okay? I gotta tell you something.”
I hang up and stand there another second with the heel dangling from my fingers and the trees moving softly in the morning breeze.
Needed some time away.
How far away, Penny? I swallow around my own question, trying to keep my breathing steady.
I know what panic feels like—I’ve lived inside it before. This isn’t panic yet, but it’s close enough that my heartbeat hasn’t settled properly since I woke up.
Looking down the driveway, I half expect her to pull in while I’m standing there, confirming this is all in my head. She doesn’t.
Flora’s opens early, and Penny likes the cinnamon buns when she’s stressed, so Flora’s is the first place I’ll check first.
By the time I’m climbing into the truck, the heel is still hooked through my fingers.
The bell above the café door jingles when I walk inside a few minutes later, and Rose Potts glances up from wiping down the counter before her eyes narrow slightly.
“You look terrible,” she says automatically.
“Morning to you too, Rose.”
She notices the heel in my hand, and a beat passes.
“Did you murder Cinderella?”
Normally, I’d laugh.
“You seen Penny?”
Something in my voice must land wrong because her expression changes immediately.
“No. Why?”
“She said she needed some time away.”
“And now you’re carrying her heel around Maplewood?”
I look down at the shoe. “Apparently.”
Rose tosses the towel onto her shoulder and comes around the counter. “Okay, talk to me, Prince.”
