Even if part of her wanted to push him right off the dock in return.
She ran her finger over the dresser handle, her anger wilting a little. There was plenty of annoyance, yes—but also fear that she would fail. Shehadto keep it together, stay strong, stay positive.
Because who was going to hold all this together if she fell apart too?
Zoey headed back down the hall, pausing in the doorway of Linc’s bedroom. His familiar, musky cologne lingered in the air, along with the spice of his aftershave. She closed her eyes and breathed a lungful of it all, briefly considering flopping on his bed and inhaling his pillow.
There was clearly another part of her that still very much wanted to kiss him again, wanted to see where this relationship could really go.
If he’d ever let it.
Music played from Amelia’s room, per usual. Zoey hadn’t heard much from her since she’d gotten back from lunch with Mama D—also not unusual. Had she been that much of a hermit when she was a teenager? Or was she just hurting?
Zoey shut her bedroom door behind her, then knocked softly on Amelia’s. “It’s Zoey.”
No response. She tapped again, louder.
Nothing.
Zoey edged the door open, slowly. “Amelia?”
Silence, save for Evanescence blaring.
She pushed the door all the way open. The room was empty. Amelia’s bed was rumpled, though, like she’d been in it earlier. A book lay open on the floor, the spine bent. Pages of doodles and a pencil were abandoned on the desk, under lamplight.
Maybe she’d gone to the bathroom while Zoey was in her room—to which point, Zoey better getoutof her room or risk the wrath if she got caught.
A frame sitting on the desk caught her eye—the cracked one from the surprise reception party. Zoey walked toward it, squinting. Was that—oh. She pressed a hand against her chest. The family photo from the wedding that weekend. Amelia in her red boa, Zoey with her cardboard mustache. Linc, with his bow tie.
Except Linc wasn’t smiling at the camera, which would have been shocking to her. He was smiling ather.
Funny what you can see in a photo that you miss in real life.
The way Linc looked at her…Zoey swallowed. Maybe the kiss last night hadn’t been a fluke. Maybe the slow dances…the gentleness he’d shown…maybe it meant something, and she just needed to wait this out.
Give him time.
Zoey’s eyes burned, and she picked up the frame, running her finger over the long crack. Amelia had kept it anyway, saved it—and done exactly what Rosalyn had said to do.For your family…
Linc needed to see this, bad. Maybe it’d mend a few of his own cracks.
She carefully replaced the frame where it was on the desk, next to the open notebook of doodles. Turned, being careful not to trip over the backpack that was always set at the foot of the bed.
Zoey blinked. The backpack was gone.
Something heavy pressed on her chest. Had she even seen Amelia in the last few hours? Zoey thought back. She’d heard her music…but definitely hadn’t heard the front door open or shut. Amelia hadn’t gone on the boat with Linc, had she?
He hadn’t exactly seemed in the mood for company.
Zoey spun a slow circle, taking in more details of the room. The open closet door, the pajama pants sticking out of the dresser drawer. The curtains pulled back…the window cracked.
She rushed to the window, the frame barely lifted as if someone—Amelia?—had left it in a hurry.
Zoey peered out the window into the darkness, toward the ground. It’d be an easy enough descent with a backpack, down the split-level roof, to the dormer window, then just a hop to the patio cover and a four-foot drop to the ground, if she dangled over the side.
Her heart hammered, and she tried to control the erratic pace with a deep breath. Just because the window was open a smidge didn’t mean Amelia had run away. And the backpack could easily just be downstairs, or even left in Linc’s truck after church. No need to panic. After all, why would Amelia frame that photo of them all, just to up and run away?
Unless…
