Page 80 of From the Embers
We’d already lived through hell, but there we were, our nightmares coming true faster than our dreams ever could.
“We just need her back,” I told the detective, my cries muffled by Eason’s strong chest. “Please, just help us find her.”
EASON
Numb yet simultaneously frozen in a state of more pain than I had ever experienced, I spent the rest of the day on autopilot.
My heart beat.
My lungs expanded.
But my mind was lost in a sea of what-ifs.
Not the kind of what-ifs that could ever be spoken out loud for fear the universe would hear me and take them as a challenge. The world was full of sick and twisted people.
And now, one of them had my baby girl.
Bree had called a locksmith to change every lock in the house. The garage door had been reprogramed, and the security company was coming out the next morning to install new cameras inside and outside the house.
But until that was done, and maybe not ever, neither of us felt safe staying in the house. We also didn’t want to go far though. I’d spent the day staring at the door as the police took pictures and examined every square inch of our home. I was hanging on the edge of a cliff, knowing that someone had taken her, but there was still a part of me that hoped she had just wandered away and at any minute would come back home.
She wouldn’t. I knew that. But hope was my drug of choice at the moment.
Thankfully, Evelyn lived just down the street and reached out to us that afternoon. She’d spent the day with officers combing her house, and the minute they cleared her as a potential suspect, she opened her doors to us.
It was closer than a hotel on the off chance we needed to get back home quickly, and Asher and Madison adored her, so they would feel comfortable there as well. The police thought it was a good idea to leave for a few nights too, so with a gaping hole in my chest, we packed bags and left the last place I’d kissed my daughter goodnight.
Bree and I wouldn’t let the kids out of our sight, but Evelyn took over cooking dinner, passing out snacks, even luring Madison, who hadn’t stopped asking for Luna all day, into a game of hide-and-seek.
Asher wouldn’t budge though, and when it came time to tuck them into bed that night, he was no less anxious.
“I’m not lying!” Asher cried, clinging to Bree’s neck.
“I know.” Bree stroked the back of his dark hair.
“Can people come back from heaven?”
I sank down on the edge of the bed, put my elbows to my knees, and hung my head.
“No, baby. They can’t,” Bree replied, resting her other hand on my bouncing knee.
“Then how was he there?” His head suddenly popped up, a new round of panic showing on his face. “Oh no. What if he took Luna back to heaven with him? Maybe Aunt Jessica missed her.”
That thought lodged a boulder in my throat, causing me to nearly suffocate, and I had to stand up and walk to the door or chance breaking down right in front of him.
“That’s not possible, baby,” Bree whispered. “Look at me, Ash. We believe you. You saw someone, and I know you would never lie about that. But they had a mask on, right? Maybe it was just someone who looked like—”
“It was Dad!” he shouted, frantic desperation thick in his voice. “I looked right at him before he ran away. I remember what he looked like, and I know it was him.”
I sucked in a deep breath, holding it until my lungs ached. The pain in my chest had been so excruciating all day that the momentary burning from oxygen deprivation felt like a reprieve. Turning on a toe, I looked him straight in the eye. “I believe you, Ash.”
I didn’t. But he needed to know we did.
That kid.
That kid, with a heart of gold who would forever own a piece of my own, looked me dead in the eye and then absolutely slayed me. “I’m sorry, Eason. I’m sorry I didn’t stop him. I got scared because I thought he was a ghost.”
I had him in my arms in the very next second. Like a baby, he folded his arms around my neck and his legs around my waist, sobbing into my shoulder for something that never should have been his to bear. I knew all too well what it was like to fail someone you loved. And to carry the guilt for something completely out of your control. That kind of regret was not something I ever wanted my boy to experience.
I held him tight, my forearms crossed over his back. “You did everything right this morning. You’re seven years old. It is not your job to stop an intruder in our house. Do you understand me? You did the right thing. You came and woke us up. Knowing that he took her as quickly as we did is really going to help the police find her. You did good, buddy. Really good.”
