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“Has he talked yet?” Oliver asked, and Jackie shook her head.

“We have him in therapy, but he mostly spends his time reading and working with a tutor. He’s desperate to learn everything he missed. He’s really taken to Will.” Jackie explained about her husband. “Will is even considering taking a leave of absence to spend time with him, see if it can help.” She turned to me, her eyes hesitant. “Would you mind asking Goldie if she would be willing to meet with Silas? He really misses her. I texted her, but she hasn’t responded, and I don’t want to push.”

I nodded. “I’ll ask. I hope you all know her being closed off has nothing to do with you. I think with me… well, she doesn’t feel pressure because there isn’t much of a real friendship to forget.”

Oliver looked at me with questions and sadness. He was the only one here who knew what had really happened between Goldie and me. Hell… he and I were now the only ones who knew. Not even Goldie remembered. I shook my head subtly, conveying my wish for him to drop it. I could see him wanting to fight back, but he acquiesced.

“Has there been any headway with the investigation?” I asked, hoping to change the subject between Oliver and me.

Fai shook his head. He had been acting as our main point of contact for the police investigation here. I was the contact for Detective Ransom. “They believe the bunker they were held in must be on private property, because they have scoured all the public land and have found nothing. Since we don’t know where the two ran from, it’s hard to retrace their steps. Has Detective Ransom said anything to you?”

It was my turn to shake my head. “He has nothing. Goldie going missing… I think it broke something in him. He looks at it as another failure.”

“It is a bit weird that he’s investigated for twenty years and found nothing,” Jackie mused.

“I don’t know. That town has closed ranks, and he isn’t in them. They’re not forthcoming,” I explained. “I think he’s been fighting a losing battle.”

“How much does she know now?” Jackie asked, leaning forward, her elbows resting on the table. “Anything?”

“Not that she’s let on,” I explained. “But… I do think she’s holding things back, keeping them buried deep. Whether it’s memories or about what happened to her down there, I don’t know.”

It was quiet at the table. None of us wanted to think about what had happened down there. Goldie called it a hellhole. Silas called it his dungeon. I had a feeling it was a living nightmare for them both.

Finally, I cleared my throat and motioned toward the journal we were supposed to review. “Should we get started?”

Fai nodded, handing out mockups of the next issue for us to review. The topic of Goldie didn’t come up much throughout the day, but it weighed heavily in all our minds. It was impossible for it not to. Her office sat waiting for her return, and her absence was obvious.

For the rest of the day, I wondered how I would bring up the topic of Silas, because it would bring up the topic of it all. I knew she cared for him. She had screamed his name last night during her nightmare. I had hope that talking to him would help her start working through her own demons, because trying to hide them in the darkness of her mind wasn’t working.

The day dragged on as I grew antsy to get home. It was an unproductive workday, but I had managed to get a call in to Detective Ransom. He had no updates for me, and I tried not to be frustrated. He was looking into Peter Baker since I had been insisting on it, but he was so convinced it couldn’t be him. I contemplated asking if this Brooks had been looked into, but that required a conversation with Jackie first. Brooks was Silas’s older brother, and it was possible she had more information. I did know he was fighting for custody of Silas, but Jackie and Will were following Silas’s lead. As long as he wanted to stay with them, he would.

I made a mental note to talk to Jackie later to ask about Brooks. Something about him felt off to me, but I couldn’t put my finger on why. Well… I could. He was one of the last names written in Goldie’s notebook before she was taken.

The moment the clock hit five, I was up and out of my office, practically running out the front door to my car. The drive home felt like a million years, my stop at a local burger joint making it even longer. But I had promised to bring her food home. Pulling into my driveway took an immediate weight off my shoulders. The two officers sat in the patrol car on the street, and the porch light was on, casting a glow in the darkness. In fact, it seemed that every light in my house was on. They usually were these days.

I sauntered onto the porch and into the house, excited to see River and Goldie… and check in on how the rest of the day had gone. But I was stopped dead in my tracks.

Curled up on the couch, blankets and pillows strewn about, were Goldie and River. River’s little head was resting in Goldie’s lap, a blanket pulled up around him, his alligator in his arms. Even more shocking, Goldie was knocked out. Her sleep wasn’t interrupted by fits of fear; she looked restful, her eyes softly closed, small puffs of breath escaping her lips. I stared at them, my heart feeling completely full.

These two, in this messy house with all the lights on, were becoming my entire world. My home.

Goldie

“Can we play baseball?” River asked, doing his best to keep his voice quiet, and I couldn’t help but chuckle at the boy.

I had been his kind-of nanny for a week now, and I may be biased, but I was pretty damned good at it. Lexington was initially reluctant to leave him with me, and I understood completely. I didn’t have a child myself, but if I did, I probably wouldn’t leave them with the mentally impaired nutcase I impromptu moved into my house because she was losing her mind on her own.

He was right when he showed up at my house last week: I needed to be around people, and in so many ways he felt like a savior to me—answering my prayers of someone forcing me to accept help. I wasn’t in a place to ask for it myself, and somehow Lexington could sense it. Having River around was an added bonus. He was the personification of sunshine and joy, and overall a damned good kid. He was only four and still had his fair share of tantrums and bouts of pure energy I didn’t think anyone could keep up with.

Lexington somehow trusted me enough to watch River during the day over taking him to his usual daycare. I wasn’t entirely sure why. That first day, River was upset about Lexington leaving for the day. I was beginning to suspect River had some jealousy toward his cousins whose mom was home all day. River adored Lexington and wanted to spend all day, every day with him. It was rather endearing, in all honesty. When Lexington went to leave, and River was crying, I offered to watch him. I wasn’t even sure why, but I was genuine in my offer. I knew how to keep myself alive, and I figured a four-year-old couldn’t be too much harder.

Oh, how was I wrong. So very wrong. This kid needed to be nicknamed the battering ram and wrapped in bubble wrap. I didn’t know how Lexington did it all on his own, and I was doing my best to help. I wasn’t doing much else anyway.

I could have gone back to work, but without my memory of it, I just simply wasn’t ready. My therapist and I had been working on giving myself grace in my recovery. It would take time, and I needed to let my mind and body go at their own pace. But there was no denying having Lexington force me out of my house was necessary. While my memories weren’t back and the nightmares still persisted, the days were becoming easier to handle and survive.

Well, most days. Days and moments like now, where a headache set its rampage through me, I often felt debilitated. I was well enough to take care of River, but not for an outside adventure to play baseball with a four-year-old… and in the rain on top of it all.

“Let’s wait for your dad to get home and see if he wants to go,” I hedged, and hoped River would agree. There was no guessing when he was in the mood to be agreeable or not, but I was taking my chances. He had taken a solid nap in the afternoon and eaten most of his breakfast and lunch, and it was making me feel more optimistic about my chances.