Page 98 of Eternal Craving

I smiled at her. “I adore you.”

She gazed at me for the longest time and then returned my smile.

“You’re perfect the way you are,” I said, with a sense of relief that I’d done the right thing.

“I’ll always love you, you know that?” She reached for my hand and squeezed it with affection.

“When you get up tomorrow, I want you to do something I can’t do.”

“Anything.”

I stared out of the window. “Watch the sunrise for me.”

Chapter Thirty-Five

“We’ve searched everywhere,” Miranda said, sobbing.

With my heart in my throat, I stared down at twelve-year-old Ricardo, who leaned over a warm bowl of chicken soup.

“Where is he?” I demanded. “You were with him last.”

Ricardo shrugged and dipped a piece of bread into his soup.

I half expected Jacob, barely seven years old, to burst in through the kitchen door and shout about his adventures – the tree he’d climbed, the castle he’d defended, or the imaginary army he’d taken on and won.

“Ricardo, you must tell us,” Alicia said.

Something about his uneasy smile, the way his eyes avoided us, it was as though he was trying to hide something. He was his father’s son.

He shifted in his seat. “Jacob ran away.”

I slumped next to him and drew upon my last remnants of patience. “What are you talking about?”

I caught visions from Ricardo’s wandering mind and grabbed his wrist.

“He was frightened.” Ricardo fixed his gaze on his spoon.

“Of what?”

“You.” He yanked his wrist away.

I reached for the bowl and threw it against the wall. Soup splattered.

Ricardo flinched. “You scared him,” he said.

My fingernails dug into my palms.

“He was terrified.” His tone was strangely even, reflecting no emotion.

“And yet you remained behind?”

“I’m not frightened of you.”

“You’re lying.” I held back a sob. “Where is he?” I tried to stay calm, but I could feel the tingle of my fangs.

Ricardo’s expression portrayed innocence. “I don’t know.”

Rivulets of brown soup trickled down the wall and met the floor.