Page 259 of A Taste of Vanilla

“Where?” My heart hammers in my chest, and I grab my keys.

“I’m sending you her location.”

“Is she safe?”

“She says she is. Pulled into a closed farm stand off some exit in Virginia.”

Virginia.

The word hits hard enough that I close my eyes.

She ran. Again. And I’m the one who caused it.

“I think her phone is dead,” Marley says. “She asked me to come get her, not you.”

The sentence stings.

“Do you want me to go?” I ask carefully.

Silence.

When Marley speaks again, her voice is rough. “Yes.”

I immediately move toward the door.

“But listen to me,” she says.

“I’m listening.”

“She didn’t ask for you. I don’t know if she’s going to be upset when you get there.”

“I know,” I say as I reach my truck.

“You need to fix the mess you made.”

I pause. “I know,” I say. I have a lot to fix.

She huffs. “Don’t lecture her on driving.”

I chuckle. “Marley, you should know me better by now. How many times have I run?”

She’s quiet for a long moment. Then, “Please make sure she’s safe. Ask before doing anything else.” Her voice is shaking, and for a second, she reminds me of the girl she was as a kid.

“I understand.”

My phone pings with Halston’s location, and I pull it up as I turn the key in my ignition.

The rain comes down heavily as I get out of Baltimore. The passenger seat contains a small bag of gummy worms, a bottle of water, a phone charger, a blanket, two reflective triangles, aflashlight, and an unopened bag of tissues I picked up at the store.

The navigation blares through the speakers as a high-pitched ringing echoes in my ears.

Continue straight.

When I finally get there, the rain is still pouring down, and all I can see is her car.

I keep both hands on the wheel as I come to a stop and breathe deeply for a few moments, preparing myself.

When I’m ready, I text Marley that I’m here and Halston is safe, then text Oliver. Then, I open the door.