Page 125 of The Next Chapter

‘Harper!’ What if we don’t find her? What then?

‘Lily.’

‘Shh,’ I tell Lola and Noah. ‘I think I heard something. Harper!’

‘Lily.’

‘I heard it too,’ Lola says.

‘Hang on, Harper, we’re coming,’ Noah calls back.

I want to collapse on the floor with relief. ‘Harper,’ I shout, ‘be as loud as you can. Shout back.’

‘LILY.’

‘Okay, it’s this way.’ Noah points to the direction of Harper’s voice.

‘Keep shouting to us, Harper,’ Lola calls.

‘Lily!’ Harper’s voice sounds hoarse.

Eventually, the calls of ‘Lily’ become louder until we find Harper, arms wrapped around herself sitting at the bottom of a tree.

Her face is puffy with tears, and she’s soaked and shaking.

Noah has his jacket off in a second and wraps it around her. He picks her up like a doll and she doesn’t even complain. She just tucks her head into his shoulder.

‘It’s all right, Harper,’ Lola says, heading back in what must be the direction of the hotel.

‘Yeah, we’ve got you,’ I say, just for something to say. It’s been a day, honestly.

‘You came back.’ Her voice is muffled in Noah’s shirt.

‘Yeah, Harper, I came back.’

Chapter Twenty-Three

By the time we get back to the car park, there’s an ambulance waiting for Harper. I don’t know what worries me more, the fact that she goes into it willingly, or the fact that she endures her foster mum kissing her head over and over.

‘We’ll see you!’ I call to her. ‘When you’re back.’ I don’t know if she doesn’t hear or if she’s ignoring me. And then it’s just me, Noah and Lola standing in the car park, shaking.

‘Well, I never drink, not anymore, but I think tonight calls for a brandy.’

Lola’s day has been even more full-on than mine when you think that she drove to Manchester and back. In a day.

I go to follow her, but she turns around and says, ‘Go, your cottage is waiting for you, Lily,’ and walks away, leaving me with Noah.

‘Come on, you must be freezing,’ he says, and I am shaking. Though what exactly is making me shake is quite frankly a toss-up at this point.

I don’t argue. My brain is running static. I can’t think. I just follow Noah through the gardens and into the cottage. There, I sit on the couch, my back straight and my hands primly crossed in my lap. Noah goes to get some towels from the bathroom. He moves to sit next to me and tilts his knees so that they’re touching mine. It settles me, just an inch.

‘What a day,’ I say, thinking that it doesn’t cover everything today has been, not by a long shot. This can’t be the same day that I had a meeting with Mr Vandergilden, even if that was eleven hours ago.

‘So…’ I draw it out, thinking that if ever there was a time for honesty, it’s now. ‘You never knew that she had a baby?’ I ask.

Noah shakes his head. ‘She told me everything. After you left, she came and told me everything.’

I’ve started to shake again. It’s been an intense couple of hours, but also maybe I am colder than I realize. Noah gets up, switches on the kettle and goes to the bedroom, returning with the duvet. I wrap it around me, like a giant fluffy chrysalis. I look and am ridiculous.