Straight to voicemail.
A little knot formed in my stomach. That wasn’t like her.
I told myself she was probably just busy getting ready, or stuck in traffic, or wrangling Ava. But the minutes kept slipping by, and the knot kept tightening.
I tried again.
Voicemail.
Something was wrong.
Mel skated over, helmet tucked under her arm. “Do you know where Eleanor is? She was supposed to be here ten minutes ago.”
I shook my head. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of her. Nothing.”
We both stood there, worry settling in like a weight.
“Maybe Ava’s holding her up,” I said, grasping at something normal.
Mel frowned. “Ava’s with Becca. She’s bringing her and Leo in a little bit.”
That was when the knot in my stomach turned cold.
“I’ll find her,” I said, already pulling out my phone again as I headed for the door.
I was in my car before her voicemail finished greeting me.
As I backed out of the parking space, there was a soft thump from the back seat. I twisted around, and there it was.
Her blue skate. Sitting on the floor like a quiet warning. Something was wrong.
I drove like hell, every red light feeling like a personal insult, my pulse pounding in my ears. I made it to her mother’s house in less than five minutes, pulling up to the curb with my heart in my throat.
The place looked the same as always, pristine, silent, controlled.
I shoved the nerves aside.
There wasn’t time for that.
I grabbed the skate, got out of the car, and walked straight up to the door, lifting my hand to knock.
And then the door flew open.
There she was.
Eleanor stood on the threshold, eyes bright with tears, fury and heartbreak fighting across her face. She looked like she was about to cry or scream or maybe both at once.
I just stared at her, stunned, still holding her blue skate in my hands.
“Hey,” I breathed. “I think I found something of yours.”
“You came,” she said, breathless and wild-eyed.
“Of course,” I told her. “I’ll always come for you.”
She grabbed the skate from my hands and spun, taking off up the grand staircase two at a time. I stood there for half a second, completely lost, before I heard her mother’s voice raised inside the house.
“We’re not done.”
