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“She was probably trafficked. And if that’s the case they won’t ever find her. I ain’t want that shit for her. Not that kind of torture. I just wanted to end her life. But that kind of life, I wouldn’t wish on anyone,” I admitted.
“I don’t want that for her either,” she said. “But maybe she just ran away.”
That was what kept fucking with me. I knew what Storie was capable of doing to somebody else. I didn’t know what somebody might be doing to her.
Melody rested a hand against my arm.
“I keep thinking about Keenan being at school with her. What if she’s waiting somewhere?”
“I’m not letting anything happen to him.”
“I know you’ll try.”
She didn’t say it to hurt me, but I felt that shit. I had tried to protect Dream, too. I had been living with the threat while looking everywhere else for it.
I put my hand over hers.
“Security stays with y’all. Nothing changes because she’s missing.”
She nodded and leaned against me. I held her while looking past her shoulder at the photograph on my desk. The police had asked for a recent one, and I had spent too long choosing between pictures of a little girl I thought I knew.
Part of me wanted a call saying they had found her. Then I thought about bringing her back into this house. I hoped she was never found. I hoped at worst she was just taken out of her misery.
For now, Dream was still in Pittsburgh. Melody and Keenan were living somewhere else. I had been planning my days around keeping everybody away from Storie, and now I was spending them trying to find her.
I’d give it another month but then I was bringing my family back under my roof. Maybe her disappearance was a blessing in disguise.
55
Melody
Four Months Later
Winter was in full force and I hated leaving the house. But today it was necessary. My bump and I were braving the frigid air to meet with a developmental editor.
I had finally finished my first book, and today she was going to tell me everything that was wrong with it. Hopefully, she would find a few things she liked, too.
By the time I got inside the café, my fingers were cold even with gloves on. Derrick held the door while I maneuvered my belly and bag through it. Everything required more effort these days. I couldn’t even bend down to pick something up without considering whether I really needed it.
My editor waved from a table near the back. There was a printed copy of my manuscript beside her laptop, covered in little colored tabs.
Damn. That was a lot of tabs.
“Before you start panicking, I loved it,” Mia said as I sat down.
“Is it that obvious?”
“You’ve been staring at the manuscript since you came through the door,” she laughed.
“Well, you have enough stuff sticking out of it to make me nervous.”
She smiled and pushed a cup of tea toward me.
“I ordered what you had last time.”
“Thank you.”
I took my coat off before reaching for it. The baby shifted as I settled into the chair, and I rested a hand against my belly.
