Total pages in book: 150
Estimated words: 146034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 730(@200wpm)___ 584(@250wpm)___ 487(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 146034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 730(@200wpm)___ 584(@250wpm)___ 487(@300wpm)
The attempted break-in at the motel.
Whoever had been outside the guest house.
The journal that had gone missing.
They’d picked up on the panic, though. I knew it. I could feel their own turmoil radiating from their rooms.
“We will, Ezra. We’ll find her. We have to.” Dakota’s brown eyes were misty as she stood there, wringing her fingers together.
I’d had back-to-back meetings, one I’d personally called with the mayor to talk about my concerns over Hayden, and another right after with the Fire Chief.
I should have checked my goddamn phone, but I’d gone from one to the other and hadn’t pulled it out of my pocket. I’d had two messages waiting for me…one from Savannah saying she was following Hayden and another one from Dakota who’d been worried about her friend who’d taken off suddenly before her shift had ended.
Her friend that none of us had heard from since.
There was a light tapping at the door before it creaked open and my mother stepped through. I was still angry with her, but I didn’t have time to deal with that right then. I grabbed my phone and stuffed it into my back pocket. “Thank you for coming,” I told her as everyone stirred, preparing to leave.
“Of course.”
“Lock the doors and don’t let anyone in unless it’s one of us.”
Warily, my mother nodded, unimmune to the tumult that twisted through the atmosphere. I was heading for the door when the little voice hit me from behind. “Daddy.”
Olivia.
Using that timid, sweet tone that she only used when we were alone.
Grief clutched my insides. I couldn’t handle her precious heart being crushed again.
I fought the burning that raced the back of my throat, trying to act like I had it together when I was falling apart as I turned to her where she stood at the end of the hall.
Her blonde hair was in a messy braid, and she was wearing the same pink dress she’d had on this morning when she’d left, but her spirit was different. Marred by worry and fear.
“I need to go right now, Livvie. I’ll be back soon. I promise.” Regret filled my tone.
“But I need to talk to you.”
“I can’t right now. I have to—”
Tears streaked down her cheeks. “Daddy, please.”
I cast a glance at everyone who was waiting.
“Go on, brother,” Cody said. “We’ll all load up and head out.”
I dipped my chin, and I followed Olivia into her room. She shut the door behind her. I could feel her nerves raving, the way she was trembling, her soul shaken.
I dropped to a knee in front of her. “Sweet girl, I know you’re scared right now, but I need to go and find Savannah so I can bring her home to us. You don’t have to be afraid.”
I prayed to God it wasn’t a lie.
She pressed her lips together and looked away. “I think I did something really bad.”
Guilt tinged her cheeks a mottled pink.
Fuck, I hated that I didn’t have time for this. That I felt hope ticking away.
“It’s okay, Olivia. Whatever you did, we’ll talk about it later.”
Her head shook. “I didn’t think I was stealing it. I just thought…I just thought it was Mommy’s because I gave it to her for Christmas and we never found it before, and I thought I should keep it with the album you gave me with all our special pictures.”
A frown carved itself deep between my brow. “What are you talking about, Livvie?”
She blinked through the tears that wouldn’t stop falling. “The journal in Miss Savannah’s room. I was just looking for a marker and a piece of paper when she was taking a shower so I could leave her an invitation so she could have dinner with us forever and never be lonely again, but I found Mommy’s journal and I took it. I didn’t mean to steal it.”
Dread sank like a stone to the pit of my stomach.
I took her by the outside of the arms. “Where did you find it?”
“In the drawer under the TV. I’m really sorry, Daddy. I didn’t mean for Savannah to get lost.”
I smoothed my hands up and down her arms, like it might be able to soothe us both. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault, Olivia. I promise, it’s not your fault. But I need you to show me that journal.”
Sniffling, she turned away and got to her knees beside her bed. She shoved her hand under the mattress and box spring and pulled a journal out from where she’d hidden it. Shame clung to her as she slowly brought it back to me, her head tipped down.
“It’s okay,” I promised.
But it wasn’t.
It was not okay.
I skimmed through the pages.
Diary entry after diary entry.
Note after note about a beautiful young girl who’d gotten wrapped up in a powerful man and had lost both her innocence and her freedom. A spiral of misdeeds and manipulation. A therapist who’d tried to save her.