Page 45 of Strict Confidence (Rochester Trilogy 2)
It feels like the two sides of my heart are being tugged apart by strong hands. Noah’s waiting on one side, and Paige and Beau on the other. A sob wrenches out of me. “Noah, I—”
“Just come home. We can figure things out when you get here. You don’t have to think about it. Just buy a plane ticket back to Houston.”
The alarm on my phone rings, cutting through our conversation. I have it set for eight o’clock every morning, though Paige usually comes and finds me before then.
I’m on the clock.
“I have to go,” I tell Noah.
“No. Jane. We need to talk about this. Don’t hang up. Don’t—”
I end the call and put the phone in my pocket, then go to find Paige.
She isn’t there. Her bed is empty. The door to her bathroom stands open, the small room dark inside. She’s not in her room, or Beau’s, or any of the other guest rooms.
I wipe away my tears with the hem of my shirt. My heart thumps with renewed fear at the absence of her. What if she’s wandered away? Oh, no.
We’re in a new place. You know how she likes to hide.
She’s not on the upper floor. I check every room and the linen closet. The only access to the attic is via a pull-down staircase, so she can’t be up there. One of my feet slips on the stairs going down to the first floor, but I catch myself on the railing.
Not in the kitchen. Not in the living room. “Paige?”
No answer.
The inn has a finished basement, and I hesitate between looking outside and looking down there. Out or down? God, I don’t know. I have to do both, so I rush down the stairs at top speed. It’s cool and still down here. The sparse furniture is taken care of, like everything in the inn, but it’s not a space we’ve used.
She’s not in the main room, with its two couches and shelves stacked with board games.
I’m about to give up, to sprint upstairs and search the beach for her, when I hear the sniffle from the laundry room.
Next to the industrial washer and dryer is the exit for the laundry chute, covered by a door that can be pulled back with a knob. It’s open an inch.
I can see Paige’s toes through the crack.
She goes absolutely still when I pull open the door. Paige looks stricken in the dim light coming through a window high on the ceiling. Her cheeks are red. If she’s about to have another meltdown, I can handle it, but this feels different. I open my arms wide to her and back up a few steps to give her space.
“Come here, sweetheart.”
She hesitates for a painful few seconds. But then she scrambles out of the laundry chute and launches herself at me.
I go down to the floor with her and lean against the opposite wall. She rests her head on my chest, breathing hard.
Paige relaxes a little when I put my arms around her and lean us back on the pillows. I run my fingers through her hair, working out the little tangles that have accumulated over the course of the morning. I don’t say anything. Sometimes it’s better to nudge a person when they’re upset. Sometimes it’s better to keep your mouth shut. At least staying quiet gives me a chance to collect myself.
Paige takes a shuddering breath. “I don’t want to die.”
Oh, it hurts to hear those words in her voice. She shouldn’t be thinking about death this young, but she can’t help it. Her parents are dead. “You’re going to live a long, long time,” I promise her, even though I can’t promise it.
“Okay, but I don’t want you to die.” The quaver in her voice almost makes tears spill over again, but I’m not going to break down. She’s experienced too much loss already, and now she’s even more afraid. It’s awful. I have to be strong for her.
“I’m not planning to die anytime soon.” This is the truth, at least. I’m not planning on it. Right now I’m planning to live forever if it’ll mean making her feel better. I run a hand over her back. “Are you worried about it?”
“Yes,” she says in a small voice. “If you and Beau die, who will take care of me?”
A truly impossible question. I don’t know what Beau’s will says, but if he dies, it wouldn’t be me. I would go back to Houston, and I would once again become no one. “Someone will always be here to take care of you. But we’re both going to live a long time. Until you’re a grown-up.”
A pause. The wheels are going to come off my answers pretty soon if she keeps this up. I really will cry. I don’t know how to explain the process of finding your own stand-ins for family. It wouldn’t be comforting to her.
