Wanted to fight, to live.
Wanted to see Memaw again.
He forced himself to think of her, there in the hospital bed, think of her watery eyes and her wrinkly soft hands and her fierce determination. He pictured what she must look like, imagined the color of her hospital gown—pale blue, almost as light as Miss Becca’s eyes in the afternoon sunlight—imagined that Memaw had her eyes closed but was talking to him in her mind.
“Hold on, sweet boy. Hold on a little while longer.”
This time, he’d listen.
He’d do as he was told.
He held on with his good arm, held on tight for who knew how long, hours maybe, and prayed.
When the water came again, he was ready.
CHAPTER 39
Rebecca
No one was home at CJ’s house, or at least no one answered the doorbell. The lights were out, and no car was in the driveway.
Underneath the front porch awning, she listened. She didn’t hear a TV on inside.
If Devon were home, she imagined he wouldn’t go answering their door, not if he was using the house as a hideout. She glanced at the houses on either side of CJ’s. They looked empty, too. It would take a quick second for her to slip around back, check the windows. If anyone saw her, she could explain. Maybe they could help, too.
Don’t be stupid, Rebecca. She knew full well this wasn’t the kind of neighborhood that took kindly to snooping.
But this was Devon. Devon mattered.
And it was a risk worth taking.
“Devon? You there?” she called, feeling silly. “It’s me. Becca.”
Nothing.
Quickly, she slipped around back, stood on her tiptoes in the rain to peer inside the windows. All the lights were out in both the rear rooms, and she even slipped inside the back screened porch, tapped at the sliding glass door. No one was home.
Back in the car, she checked her phone, saw a text from Millie. “Where did you go?”
She winced. “Family emergency. I’ll be back ASAP,” she typed out, hit send.
“Let me know if you need anything,” came Millie’s reply seconds later. “I’m here to help.”
A rush of gratitude swept over her for the second time that morning.
She cruised the neighborhood for a few minutes, racking her brain. Where would an eleven-year-old kid go if he were trying to steer clear of his crazy uncle? Devon was a resourceful kid, but he was still a kid. Still, she’d seen him riding his bike all over town, even that one time way over by her office. Josh and JJ said he’d joined them for fishing a couple times. He could be anywhere.
She swallowed, thinking of the dark expression on Uncle T’s face.
Or nowhere at all.
That was what niggled at her—what if Devon hadn’t gone anywhere? What if T were lying and Devon was at home hurt?
Or worse?
Her heart thudded.
Her cell phone rang in her hands, and she almost dropped it on the car floorboard. She eased to the side of the road, answered. It was Rev.
