Page 89 of The Pumpkin Pie Book Nook

Madison: I’ll head to the library. Check the children’s section.

Robyn swallowed hard.

This was Maple Falls. This was what the town did—they showed up.

And still, the fear kept rising.

Because Emma was only eight. And she was scared. And it was dark and cold and all Robyn could see in her mind was Emma’s pale face on the sidewalk, saying, “So you’re leaving.”

Robyn’s anger shifted into guilt so fast it made her nauseous.

She started searching.

She checked behind the bookstore first, pushing open the back door and stepping into the narrow space where deliveries were dropped off. No Emma. Just stacked cardboard boxes and the scent of damp leaves.

She jogged to the community park, cutting across the sidewalk, scanning the swings and the slide and the benches. She checked behind the gazebo, under the big oak tree, by the little duck pond that was mostly mud this time of year.

Nothing.

Her phone stayed clenched in her hand, ready to dial 911 if fifteen more minutes passed.

Ten…

Five…

She turned into the alley behind Anita’s café, heart hammering. The alley was lit by one flickering security light, the pavement damp, dumpsters lined up like shadows.

“Emma?” Robyn called softly, trying not to sound panicky even though she’d never been more scared before. “Sweetheart, it’s Robyn.”

No answer.

Robyn’s heart stuttered in her chest.

She turned back toward Oak Way, forcing her legs to keep moving, her eyes to keep scanning: doorways, steps, the nook beside the library, the place near the bookstore window where Emma liked to sit and read books while Tyler worked.

Her mind wouldn’t stop spinning worst-case scenarios.

Then her phone rang. Zoe’s name flashed across the screen.

Robyn answered on the first ring. “Zoe?”

“I’ve got her,” Zoe said, voice low but steady. “She’s here at the flower shop. In the back with my kitties. Tyler’s on his way, but I thought you’d want to⁠—”

“I’ll be right there,” Robyn said, already breaking into a run.

Zoe’s flower shop was only a block away, but Robyn’s lungs burned by the time she pushed through the door. Warmth and the scent of fresh greenery hit her immediately—eucalyptus and dried herbs followed by the faintly spiced sweetness of late dahlias that made her think of turning gardens and cold mornings.

The shop was softly lit and cozy, the way small shops on October evenings could be. Buckets of flowers lined the front: deep yellow sunflowers, burgundy mums, and chocolate cosmos. A display table overflowed with ribbon spools, miniature pumpkins, and garlands of preserved autumn leaves in gold and burned orange. The bell above the door chimed cheerfully, completely unaware of the emergency unfolding beneath it.

Zoe appeared from behind the counter, her face already drawn with worry.

“Oh, Robyn.” She stepped forward and pulled her into a quick, firm hug.

Robyn clung to her for a second before pulling back. “Thank God you found her,” she whispered, voice shaking.

“She’s in the back workshop,” Zoe said gently. “She’s pretty upset.”

Robyn nodded, swallowing hard. “Okay.”