I pick it up. “Hello.”
A pause. Then a woman’s voice sounds on the other end, deeply suspicious. “Who is this? Why do you have Miranda’s phone? Where’s Miranda?”
“She left her phone in my car,” I reply, feeling relieved that B is a woman and not a man. I conveniently ignore the guilt that follows that thought.
“Who are you?” the woman demands. “And where is Miranda?”
“I’m her”—I pause, not knowing what to say—“friend. And she’s at my house.”
“Which friend? I know all of Miranda’s friends. She doesn’t have any guy friends. Who are you?”
Her constant yapping makes me flinch. I’m about to hang up on her when I hear her say, “Wait, don’t tell me you’re that guy with the kid.”
I freeze. “What?”
Miranda told her about me and Ethan? How could she tell a stranger about Ethan? A wave of fury washes over me. I trusted her!
“...the one she got fired over.” The woman is still talking.
I stare at the phone. “What?”
The scoffing sound on the other end is filled with anger. “What? She didn’t tell you? Some friend you are. She lost her job because of you, you asshole! Now tell me where Miranda is. I want to see her.”
I try to speak, but the words get stuck in my throat. Fired? Miranda was fired from the hospital?
“When?” I force the question out. “When was she fired?”
“A week ago.”
“Why?”
“I don’t see why I have to tell you anything. If she didn’t tell you, then I’m not telling you either.” Her friend is clearly angry. “I want to speak to Miranda. Tell her to call me back. I emptied out her locker for her.” When I don’t say anything, she continues, “Listen, asshole, if I don’t hear back from her in a few hours, I’m going to call the police. I don’t know who you are or why you’re so involved with my best friend, but I know she’s with you now, and if she doesn’t call me back soon, I will tell the police everything I know. Don’t mess with me.”
“I’ll have her call you back,” I say numbly. Fired.
So that’s why she didn’t come to practice.
I lean against the car, my thoughts racing. Suddenly the weariness in her eyes, the subdued nature makes so much sense.
She lost her job. I just fired her from the team’s medical staff position. I told her to stay away from me and Ethan.
My hand is reaching for the car door, blindly, a strange urgency filling me.
The hollow look in her eyes, the emptiness. I’ve seen it before, but in somebody else.
My brother.
Just a few days before he—
I haven’t let myself think about those six days in years. I’ve built walls around them thick enough that most of the time I forget they’re there. But it finds the gap now, and it doesn’t let go. Six days between losing everything and the morning they found him.
I press down on the accelerator. The city drops behind me, and the mountain road opens up, and I push the car harder than I should all the way back to the estate, through the gates, up the drive, and I’m out of the car and taking the front steps in two strides before the engine has finished ticking down.
“Linda!”
She appears at the top of the stairs with Ethan on her hip, his head drooping toward her shoulder, half-asleep already. She blinks at me. “Grayson, I didn’t hear—”
Ignoring her, I head up the stairs. The door to my bedroom is open.
