Page 57

Leah

Leah paced the length of the family room, her phone clutched tightly in her hand.

The air was thick with tension, and the silence only made her worry louder.

She stopped by the window and looked out at the front of the house, praying so hard that Skye’s car would pull into the driveway, and all of this was one big misunderstanding.

Maybe she’d told them she was going somewhere, but they’d forgotten.

How was it that the whole day had passed and no one knew where Skye had gone?

Leah knew the answer to that question, and it made her feel more awful than she had before.

Everyone was so wrapped up in their own mess, and assumptions were made that could turn out to .

.. No. She would not go there. Skye was going to be okay, and she and Quinton weren’t going to play the would’ve, could’ve, should’ve game.

It was an easy mistake. Quinton thought Skye was with Leah, and Leah thought she was home with Quinton.

She was sure she’d sent the text message letting him know she was on her way home, but she didn’t.

Her mind moved faster than her hands, and she never pressed send.

“Where could she be?” Leah muttered under her breath, running her hand through her hair that she’d nervously pulled back into a ponytail and released at least five times.

“Is there anyone else we should call?” Martha asked, sitting next to Quinton, trying to be a source of strength for him even though she looked like she needed someone to be that for her.

Quinton looked at his phone again. “It doesn’t make sense that her car and phone are still at that store, but she isn’t. I talked with everyone, but no one saw her. I called Amber and sent a message in the team’s group chat. No one has seen or heard from her all day.”

Quinton sat on the edge of the sofa, his head buried in his hands and his shoulders slumped. He’d been calling everyone he could think of, and each call seemed to cause him to sink lower and lower.

“Maybe she’s somewhere cooling off. Nova did say she was rather upset earlier today.” Martha’s voice trembled slightly as she spoke.

Leah could tell that her mom was trying to sound hopeful, but she wasn’t executing it well.

Leah shook her head, her throat tight. “I don’t know, Mom.

I doubt it, though. You know Skye would never do anything like this.

” Leah fought hard to keep her panic at bay, but it was creeping in, making it hard for her to think straight. Every second felt like an eternity.

How could she have let this happen? That was the question Leah couldn’t stop asking herself.

No matter what issues they were facing, Skye should’ve been their number-one priority, just as she’d always been up until that day.

Guilt surged through her as she thought of her and her mom sitting on the balcony eating soup and talking while Skye was only God knew where and with whom.

Blue lights illuminated the family room. Leah saw the police car sitting in the driveway. Quinton called them after he’d contacted everyone he could think to call.

“I’ll let them in,” Martha said.

Leah sat next to Quinton. His eyes were bloodshot.

He looked like he didn’t sleep at all last night.

That made two of them. She reached over and picked up his hand.

In spite of what was going on between them, they both needed each other if they had any chance of making it through what could only be described as a pure nightmare.

Leah, Quinton, and Martha sat with the officer and answered question after question.

“What was she wearing when you last saw her?” the officer asked.

Leah’s mind went blank before images of Skye flashed through, all in different outfits, from her school uniform to her basketball uniform.

Neither of which Skye had on that day, Leah knew that much for sure.

She and Quinton exchanged guilty glances.

How could they not know what their child was wearing today?

What could be the most important information needed to find Skye was the one that Leah nor Quinton had an answer to.

“Okay, think about it, and I’ll come back to that one.” The officer didn’t sound as appalled as he should’ve been.

The doorbell rang again, and Martha got up and left the room.

Nova rushed inside the family room with Martha trailing behind.

Leah sat on the sofa and Nova sat beside her.

Despite the chaos of their situation, having Nova there gave Leah a sense of reassurance.

When Nova first returned, Leah saw her presence as a painful reminder that Skye wasn’t Leah’s biological child.

Not that Leah needed that reminder, but it was easier to fool herself when Nova wasn’t there.

Now that Skye was missing, Nova’s presence held a whole new meaning.

In Leah’s eyes, Nova was a warrior. She was a hero, and Skye was Nova’s daughter, which meant she was a warrior, too, and, just like Nova, she’d return home safely. Leah had to believe that to be true.

“Did something happen? Did you find her?” Nova asked, her eyes pleading with them for good news.

“No, not yet,” Leah said. “We’re giving the officer some information about Skye.”

“What do you need to know that’s more important than being out there looking for her?” Nova asked.

“We need to know who we’re looking for,” the officer explained. “I have a picture, but I still need to know what she was wearing today so I can send that information to the dispatcher.”

“She had light-blue jeans that were torn at the knees, a red, black, and white flannel shirt that’s unbuttoned with a white tank top underneath, and red and white Converse.” Nova described Skye’s clothes as if Skye were standing right in front of her.

The officer was still writing when Nova finished. “Okay, that’s perfect. And you are?” He asked Nova.

“I’m Nova. Her mom.” Nova’s voice was shaky as her eyes darted toward Leah and Quinton.

The officer stood. “This should do for now. In the meantime, stay put in case she comes back,” he said before Martha walked him out.

“I’m so sorry.” Nova’s voice cracked. “This is all my fault. She’s missing because of me. She—she said I ruined everything, and she’s right. I don’t know how to fix it. I just—”

“Nova, stop,” Leah interjected, turning to face Nova and placing her hand on Nova’s arm. “None of this is your fault. If anyone’s to blame, it’s me.” The heaviness of Leah’s words weighed her down.

“You’re both wrong,” Quinton said weakly, pulling both of their attention toward his slumped figure.

“How did I think I could protect Skye when I couldn’t even protect you,” he said to Nova, his eyes filled with regret.

“I knew something like this could happen. That’s why I tried .

..” His voice trailed off as he lowered his head again and hid behind his hand.

Leah knew he’d still blamed himself for not being there for Nova, but he’d never been so open about it. Seeing him so vulnerable made Leah’s heart ache even more than it was already.

“Quinton, you can’t keep doing that to yourself. Like I told you before, I was the one who left that night. And anyone with eyes and common sense can see what a great job you’ve done with Skye. She’s amazing, and that’s because of you.” Nova looked over at Leah. “And you.”

Nova’s words were the validation that Leah didn’t realize she needed. They renewed Leah’s spirit and strengthened her faith. There was no way that Skye wouldn’t come back to them safely. Everyone in that room had too much love for her, and they all needed her there to receive it.

“It’s okay,” Martha said, walking into the room and talking, but it didn’t seem that she was speaking to anyone in the room.

They all looked up and saw Lance standing next to Martha.

It was the first time Leah had seen him since his unexpected visit to her office.

Seeing Lance now, Leah felt a stir of apprehension about how Quinton might react to his presence.

She glanced up at Quinton, but he didn’t even seem to notice Lance’s presence.

Quinton stared straight ahead like his thoughts were only on Skye.

“I’m sorry,” Lance said, looking in their direction. “I was waiting on Nova. I didn’t want to come inside,” he said, looking over at Martha.

“Listen, we don’t have time for any of that foolishness tonight.

My grandbaby is missing, and we need all the ears, eyes, and hands we can find.

If the two of you want to hate each other, then fine, but do it after Skye’s home and safe.

Is that understood?” Her authoritative tone dared anyone to disagree.

No one did.

“Good,” she continued. “Now, come on in. Nova needs you.”

Lance had only taken another step into the living room before Nova moved away from Leah and Quinton and wrapped her arms around Lance.

He held her head against his chest, and Leah couldn’t help but notice how they’d seemed to effortlessly ease right back into the friendship they’d had before it ended.

Leah glanced over at Quinton, who seemed to be completely zoned out from everything that was going on around him.

She couldn’t be sure that he even realized that Lance was in their house.

Leah reached behind Quinton and rubbed his back, attempting to offer comfort.

She wasn’t sure she had it in her to give, but whatever she had, she needed to give to him.

Then, as if something shook him out of his trance, Quinton jumped from his seat. “I don’t care what that officer said. I’m not sitting here for another second doing nothing. I’m going to look for Skye.”

“I’ll come with you.” Leah stood too.

“No.” Quinton put his hands on her shoulders. “You need to be here in case she comes back before I do.”

Leah nodded. She wasn’t in the mood to argue. All she wanted was for Skye to come back safely. As much as she didn’t want to think about it, she couldn’t stop the memories of the night they’d learned that Nova was missing. The images came to her in vivid flashes.

As if he’d seen her thoughts, Quinton pulled Leah into him and held her with the right amount of tightness, comforting her like only he could.

“I’ll be back,” he said softly before walking to the doorway, past Nova and Lance.

“I need something.” He looked around. “What am I looking for?” he asked no one in particular.

“Do you have your keys?” Leah asked, figuring that couldn’t be it because of course he knew he needed his keys.

“My keys. Yeah, I need my keys.” He still stood there like his thoughts were all jumbled and he couldn’t figure out the next move without being told.

“I’ll drive. I have my keys.” Lance held up his truck keys.

Quinton looked at Lance for a long, silent moment. His jaws tightened, but he didn’t respond to Lance’s offer.

“Listen, I know I’m the last person you’d want to go anywhere with, and I get that, but you’re in no condition to drive. You can sit in the back seat, and we don’t have to talk. I want to help you bring your daughter home.”

Quinton nodded. He turned, and his eyes met Leah’s before he followed Lance out of the house. The thud of their footsteps filled the quiet house until the click of the door behind them ushered in more silence.

Nova looked as helpless as Leah felt. Leah sat next to Nova, who was curled into Martha’s arms.

“Do you need something to drink?” Leah asked.

Focusing on others and ignoring her feelings was how Leah made it through some of her darkest times.

At least, she thought they were her darkest times until today.

Losing a parent was painful, but something children expected to do one day.

Losing a sibling was something you didn’t want to have to endure, but it wasn’t unreasonable to think that it could happen, especially when you were close in age like Leah and Nova.

But losing a child, whether you gave birth to them or not, was a darkness unlike any other and something no parent or stepparent should have to wrap their minds around.

So, Leah had to take care of everyone else because she didn’t know what would happen if she stopped.

She couldn’t promise that she’d be okay.

“We’re fine, Leah. Just sit.” Martha used her free hand and reached for Leah.

The ache in Leah’s heart grew when she settled next to her mom and allowed her mom to comfort her as she was comforting Nova.

Leah realized that no matter how old she was, she’d never stop needing her mom.

When she was a little girl, she used to think there was nothing her mom couldn’t do or make better.

She wished her mom could work whatever magic Leah used to believe she had because the fear of what was happening with Skye was suffocating.

Leah tried to pray, but she couldn’t form the words.

All she could do was hope that God could read the thoughts that her mind wasn’t coherent enough to form.