I hate that tone. I know he's worried about me. Céline is, too. But I don't care. I don't know if I'll care about anything until she's back.
I could've fucking stopped this.
I could've pushed harder to make them see that this wasn't the right move.
I should've put my foot down. Saidnolike I wanted to.
And now if anything happens to her, it's because I didn't?—
Stop spiraling.
Stop. Spiraling.
"Either call the house, or I'll go up there and bring him down to the pond myself," I snap.
Atticus's jaw tics, but he lifts his phone and dials the house, putting it on speaker.
It rings endlessly, and every second it goes unanswered is one second too many.
I rise to my feet, squinting through the trees toward where the house is. Shouldn't we be able to see the lights from here?
What if?—
"Hello?"
I blow out a breath in relief, but it's short-lived when I realize I don't recognize the voice on the other end.
"Who is this?" Atticus asks. "Where's Nancy?"
"Oh, sorry, it's Beth. I'm her fill-in for the next couple of days. Nancy got that flu that was going around and didn't want to risk giving it to Mr. Ashford."
I recognize her voice now. Beth is the weekend nurse and has worked with Dad intermittently when his regular care nurse has needed a day or two off for vacations or illness.
"We spoke with Nancy yesterday," I whisper to Atticus. "It's not like her to forget to pass along a message from us."
"Hello?" Beth says, probably thinking the line has disconnected. "Is everything okay?"
Atticus shares a look with me.
Iseverything okay?
I don't think paranoia is unprecedented right now, and I'm absolutely questioning everything and don't intend to stop anytime soon.
"We had plans to visit with Julian this evening," Atticus says cautiously. "We're down at the pond."
"Oh," Beth says, confused. "Nancy said I shouldn't take Mr. Ashford outside. He's been a little irritable the last couple of days and should rest."
That's what she told us, too. I don't want to drag him out if it's going to cause him even more distress, but then how the hell is any of this going to work?
"How is he now?" Atticus asks.
"Um, he seems all right."
"Could you bring him down, please?" I press.
"Maybe you could come up to the house? Nancy won't be happy if she finds out I went against her recommendation."
A vein in Atticus's forehead pulses. "I'll deal with Nancy. Bring him down."
