Page 3 of All the way home

The caller ID reads: Seth 🖤

Zach’s phone slips through his fingers and hits the tile with a loud crack.

And honestly? This might as well happen. He’s not even surprised when he picks it up and discovers that a thin fracture spiders along the top-right corner.

Dismay coursing through him, Zach presses the heel of his palm against his eye socket and breathes deep.

You’re getting a screen protector, right?

Mara’s question is mocking in hindsight. He’d meant to; he’d just gotten busy, and then he’d been on a hot streak in terms of victories over accidental destruction of personal property, and now—

Seth called him? What could he want? They haven’t spoken in almost a year, but the chance that Seth’s forgotten Zach doesn’t answer the phone is low. So what kind of game is he playing?

Whatever. Zach can’t fucking think about this right now. Reaching out blindly, he feels for the handle of his carry-on, and his fingers close around thin air.

Helplessly, he stares out the window for ten whole seconds before he can bring himself to look, because he already knows what he’ll find.

His carry-on is gone.

Chapter Two

Rena

Rena has a lot of things on her checklist for today, but strong-arming two grown men through a busy airport is not one of them.

It’s a familiar routine: Rena makes meticulous plans, and Kieran kicks them over like she used to topple his block towers.

Honestly, even with the long wait in the security line, she’s barely had time to recover from the fiasco at baggage check when Kieran had to unpack and repack his entire suitcase right in front of the agent because he’d forgotten that he’d buried his laptop in the one they were checking.

They should be on their way to the gate right now, but they’re not. In other words, the status quo remains uninterrupted: Rena’s the one steadfastly monitoring their surroundings and making sure to avoid mishaps; her boyfriend, Lucas, is bent over his phone playing Candy Crush; and Kieran is causing a problem.

“Relax,” he says from where he’s squatting down on the ground in the middle of the terminal, rifling through his backpack. “You saw the weather. You really think we’re getting out of here in any kind of timely manner?”

“On principle—”

“On principle,” Kieran echoes, teasing, and then his gaze catches on something behind her and the mirth bleeds out of his expression, eyes narrowing in concern.

Rena turns.

It’s the guy Kieran was pretending not to make eyes at earlier, looking slightly lost.

Wearily, Rena can’t help thinking that he looks quite a lot like Josiah: dark-brown hair that hasn’t seen the sharp end of a pair of scissors in about two months too many, pretty birdlike features, and bags under his eyes dark enough that he seems like he’s probably thirty seconds from passing out.

As though he can sense the low roll of thunder in Rena’s demeanor, Lucas turns off his phone and pockets it.

Kieran rises slowly, still staring.

The boy pivots, scanning his surroundings, eyebrows drawn together.

When Kieran takes a single step forward, Rena reaches out and snatches him by the sleeve. Leaning close, her voice is nearly a hiss. “Kieran.”

Realistically, he probably doesn’t deserve the intensity, but Rena’s patience is running thin.

All innocence, Kieran asks, “Do you think he’s all right?”

“Don’t,” Rena growls.

“I’m sorry,” Kieran says, turning his head toward her in that irritating exaggerated slow motion. “Are you suggesting I abandon the Golden Rule?”