Page 127 of Out for Blood

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My voice comes out more assured than I feel.

Mr. Higgs doesn’t answer straight away.

He joins me at the window.

Then whispers, “I know.”

I blink against the sting behind my eyes.

“Everyone else thinks I’m crazy.”

“I don’t.”

I lift my eyes to his.

His expression is understanding and composed.

“Why?” I ask.

Mr. Higgs considers the question, then shrugs.

“Every week for two years you’ve walked through those doors.”

I continue staring at him.

He continues.

“You haven’t given up.”

My throat becomes dry.

“And?”

“And I’ve learned not to underestimate determined women.”

A reluctant laugh slips out.

Mr. Higgs smiles warmly.

“There she is.”

I shake my head.

“You’re impossible.”

“So, I’ve been told.”

An hour later, I make my way back to the parking lot.

The afternoon sun bathes over the pavement, warm against my skin.

I stop beside my car and tip my head back, staring up at the endless blue sky.

Two years.

Two years of searching.

Two years of dead ends.

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