Blake frowned. “You’re really going to see him?”
Blake didn’t talk to our dad. I used to when I had to, when Mom was still at home. Conrad was the most connected, and I knew he felt an obligation as the old man aged. But he kept his distance from him emotionally, and never expected us to step up.
I rubbed my temples. “I haven’t decided yet.”
I asked Conrad if there’d been any change with Mom since this morning. It was neurotic, but I needed to stop thinking about dad for the time being. He was going to be okay for now.
“No change in the six hours since I talked to you,” Conrad said, his voice only slightly sarcastic. “She’ll be fine for two weeks, Mitchie. If anything changes I’ll let you know.” A slam sounded on Conrad’s screen and I grinned as his son Artie crowded in next to him.
“Uncle Mitch!” he exclaimed.
“My man,” I said, standing back up.
“Hey!” said Blake. “What about Uncle Blake?”
“Ijusttalked to you yesterday,” Artie said, rolling his eyes. He was ten and we all loved the shit out of him.
The laughter and jabs that followed were exactly what we needed.
Artie reminded his dad he’d promised to take him swimming and ran off to grab his stuff.
As my brothers and I said our goodbyes, I told them I’d answer if either of them texted911.I hesitated, then added, “I’ll be better at it now since I finished the book.”
Conrad leaned in. “Shut up.”
“Seriously?” Blake asked.
I told them I wasn’t going to talk about it but they grilled me anyway. Both of them looked proud enough to burst.
“It was your lucky charm, wasn’t it?” Blake asked.
Conrad’s brows bunched. “What’s his lucky charm?”
“Not what.” Blake smirked. “Who.”
“I’m hanging up now,” I said.
Blake grinned. “Her name is Winona, she’s?—”
I hung up. Let them talk.
I had two weeks before reality came crashing in. Two precious weeks where Winona was all mine. From now to then, I didn’t want to think about a single other thing.
CHAPTER 24
Into the Woods
WINONA
Just like Mitchell promised, the moment the clock struck six, I got an alert on my phone from an unknown number.
Your car has arrived.
Nerves spiked in my belly. I had no idea what was happening tonight. I’d texted Mitchell for details more than once today, but besides asking for my dress size with my first message this morning, he’d only given me one further response—a devil smiling emoji.
Outside, a black car was waiting for me, the driver in a full suit, hat and all, holding the door for me. I felt dowdy in my jeans and sneakers, but Mitchell had insisted I dress comfortably.
“How are you doing?” I asked the driver as he pulled away.
