Zoey opened her mouth, shut it. Unable to tell if the comment was satire.
“I know how this looks, but Amelia promised she wouldn’t do that anymore.” Linc pushed away from the counter, paced a tight circle before landing back.
Sheriff reached for his coffee mug. “Teenagers break prom?—”
“I know!” Linc slammed his hands on the counter. The entire structure shuddered. “But something could still be wrong—and you’re doing nothing.”
Sheriff frowned, set his mug down. Reached toward his belt, which held a weapon and a pair of handcuffs.
Okay, so they weren’t getting anywhere with vinegar. Time for sugar.
Zoey placed a steadying hand on Linc’s arm, despite her own nerves threatening to send her over the counter next, and stepped in front of him. “Look, Sheriff.” She smiled, tried to gentle her tone enough for the both of them. “Could you maybe just make a call? Have some of your deputies watch out for Amelia while they’re on patrol?”
“That I can do.” Sheriff reached for the walkie-talkie on his belt while Linc glowered. “If she actually stays out all night, check back with me in the morning.”
Zoey’s stomach flipped. All night, alone…in this storm? She glanced at the rain knocking against the front window, the darkness stretching beyond it. A gust of wind howled.
The sheriff must have seen her look, because he rushed on. “Don’t worry. Chances are she’ll come home tonight, especially if she gets wet. That’s usually the case.” He shook his head. “Teenagers think running away is real cool until they miss their free food and electronics.”
Linc back-stepped toward the door, face stony. “You better be right.”
Zoey tugged his arm. “Let’s go.” Another gust slammed against the window panes. She flipped up the hood on her jacket, then followed Linc out into the night, knowing what he had to be thinking—because she was thinking it, too. That Amelia wasn’t just any typical teenager.
She was theirs.
* * *
Linc pulled his truck back into his own gravel drive an hour later, a desperate prayer on his lips. Rain beat his windshield, the wipers doing little to sluice it off. He shifted the truck into park.Please let her be here.
Amelia hadn’t been anywhere else around town—not Magnolia Blossom, or Second Story, or Chug a Mug, which was the only place in town open this late on Sundays, and even they’d been in the process of closing. They hadn’t seen her huddled under any store awnings as they drove by the Burger Barn, or hanging out in the courtyard by the library.
His hitchhiking fears were becoming stronger, and at some point, he was going to have to tell Zoey what he suspected. But saying it out loud made it feel more likely, and he wasn’t ready for that.
“Are you praying?” He glanced at Zoey, who sat still in the passenger seat, her eyes closed. Droplets of water coated her cheeks.
She nodded. “Have been all evening.”
“Why hasn’t God answered yet?”
She opened her eyes, lips curved downward. “I don’t know.”
“I prayed with Pastor Todd this morning.” The words felt like a confession, like an experiment gone wrong.
“Yeah?”
“Think it made things worse.”
Zoey took his hand, her skin damp and chilled. “I’m sure it didn’t.”
He’d had all that peace, for a minute. But then—“Ms. Bridges showed up right afterward, and everything went downhill after that.” With Amelia. With him and Zoey.
Granted, he was the common denominator in all of those.
He looked at their joined hands, then back at her. “Why do you pray so much? If there’s no guarantee.”
“My parents always saidfaith and prayer—that’s what moves mountains. You do your part and God does His.”Zoey shoved her wet hair out of her face. “So I guess prayer helps me feel like I have a say in what’s going on.”
Linc frowned. “I thought Pastor Todd said before that the point of prayer is to remember God is in control—notus.”
