The space between his brows wrinkles as he contemplates the possibility. “It’s a long drive all on her own. Especially in this storm.”
“Maybe you should go home. Just in case.”
“I’m not leaving you here without a vehicle.” His eyes search mine. “Come with me?”
“No.” I cross my arms. “No. Someone has to stay here in case she comes back.”
“Well, we don’t know that she went home. Unless we get proof she’s there, I’m not leaving you.”
I purse my lips, thinking. “Fine. I’ll call Greta. Have her go by the house and wait to see if Taylor shows up.” My eyes flick up tomeet his. “Maybe you should call my mom in case she goes there. She seems to answer your calls more than mine.”
He studies me. “What are you talking about? I haven’t spoken to your mom.”
“Don’t lie to me right now.” I wave my hand at him. “I know you told her you were here. I don’t even have time to be mad about it at the moment. I’ll yell at you later.”
His head cocks slightly to the side. “What are you talking about? I didn’t tell her I was here. I’m not lying. I haven’t spoken to your mom in months.”
My heart sinks as I stare at him. Is it possible he’s telling the truth? Then, all at once, it hits me. I know what’s happened. I know the one person who might try to poison my daughter against me.
“Of course. She must’ve been talking to Taylor.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CORINNE WILDE - PRESENT DAY
We snap into action. Lewis calls Taylor, and I try Mom. When neither of us get answers, I call Greta. I leave her a panicked voicemail, begging her to call me back.
Mom wouldn’t hurt Taylor, of course. She’s not a monster. But if the drive to Lewis’s house is too far, the longer drive to my mom’s is out of the question for Taylor to make on her own. Especially in this weather. If Mom can talk her out of it, or if Greta can instead, I need them to.
A few minutes later, Greta calls back.
“Sorry, I was in the shower. What’s wrong?”
I swallow. “I need a favor. Taylor is missing.”
“What?” Her voice is softer than I expected. Flatter. She must have someone over. She’s trying not to overreact.
“She took my car, and we can’t get ahold of her. Er, well, we spoke once and she said she’d come home when we stop fighting, but that’s the thing… Today has been a good day. There were no signs she was going to do this.”
“Okay, babe, breathe. It’s going to be okay. What can I do?”
“Could you try to call her, maybe? Tell her to come home. Or go by our house and make sure she doesn’t show up there?”I catch myself calling itour house, but I don’t correct it. It’s the least of my concerns.
“Sure thing. I’ll do both. Anything else?”
“I think she might be talking to my mom. If there’s any chance you can swing by her house and just make sure she’s not there, we’d really appreciate it. I know it’s out of your way.” I look at the time. “We don’t really know what time she left or how long she’s been on the road.” She and Lewis got back to the cabin nearly four hours ago. “She wouldn’t have had time to make it there yet, but soon. By the time you get there, maybe.”
“Consider it done. If she’s here or at your mom’s, I will find her and get her home, okay?”
With that, we end the call, and now there’s nothing to do but wait. The cabin’s air seems full of something charged. Carbonation. Fire, maybe.
Lightning cracks outside and thunder booms, the world around us as turbulent as I feel inside.
Please let us find her. Please bring her home.I don’t know whom my prayer is going to—the universe, Grandma, or Foxglove itself. I just hope someone is listening.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
JOSEPHINE WILDE - 1765
