Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 131916 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 660(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131916 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 660(@200wpm)___ 528(@250wpm)___ 440(@300wpm)
I scanned the information. Name, date of birth, address, family contact.
The inputs in my handwriting that I’d made the first day that I’d met him.
I started to flip through the papers.
His well-checks.
A visit for a fever.
I didn’t even know what I was looking for. What I hoped to find.
Until I did.
I’d flipped through the entire stack until I made it to the last page. It was a record of Nolan’s very first visit. A well-check of a six-month-old baby boy.
17 lbs. 2 oz, 27.1 inches.
Blue eyes.
Blond hair.
Blond hair.
It felt as if I got socked in the gut.
But what nearly dropped me to my knees was the symbol that had been drawn in the corner.
A haphazard shape clearly drawn by an amateur’s hand—Dr. Reynolds’ hand.
But there was no mistaking it.
The stacked Ss with the eye in the middle.
The same as River and all his friends had tattooed on the back of their hands.
Oh God. Oh God.
Sweat slicked on my flesh and tears burned at the backs of my eyes.
“Charleigh? What are you doing?”
A gasp ripped out of me, and I whirled around to find Dr. Reynolds standing in the doorway. His hand was on the knob and his face was written in concern. Apprehension curled through his expression when he saw that I was holding a patient file.
“Oh. Nothing. I just was looking for the next patient’s chart, and I accidentally grabbed the wrong one.” I flipped it closed and turned, trying to get my hands to cooperate as I frantically stuffed it back into its place. I hurried to grab Francisca Thomas’.
Slamming shut the cabinet drawer, I waved the folder high as I whipped around. “Here we are.”
A frown pinched tight across his weathered brow. “Are you okay?”
No. I was not okay. I was not okay.
I was crumbling.
Shattering.
I forced a smile. “Of course.”
Warily, he nodded. “All right then. I need you to call the lab and ask about the status of Mr. Murray’s bloodwork. We should have received it before his follow-up today.”
“I’ll get right on it.”
He hesitated again before he mumbled, “Thank you,” and ducked out. I waited until his footsteps retreated down the hall before I scrambled out of the office and hurried to the breakroom. Every molecule in my body shook as I grabbed my purse. I attempted to keep my cool as I crossed the lobby.
But the second I pushed open the front door, I broke into a sprint.
Running to where I’d parked Raven’s car, I frantically clicked the locks over and over as I approached, and I fumbled to yank open the door handle. My pulse thundered as I jumped into the car and pushed the button to start it.
I put the car in reverse and whipped out of the parking spot, and my breaths came in shallow, jagged pants as I shifted it into gear and rammed on the gas.
I peeled out as I took to the street.
It was impossible.
Impossible.
I was terrified I was right.
Terrified that I was wrong.
Because how?
How?
Tears blurred my eyes as I flew through Moonlit Ridge. I skidded around a corner, fishtailing as I hit Vista View. But I couldn’t slow. Couldn’t stop to consider that I was being impulsive and rash.
Desperate was what I was.
Desperate in the truest sense of the word.
I came to a screeching stop in front of River’s house, and I jammed at the button on the rearview mirror that lifted the garage. I didn’t bother to pull in. I jumped out and ran inside the empty house, quick to punch in the code for the alarm system.
Silence echoed, and for a moment, I slowed, faltering in the hall, not sure what direction to go. Then I gulped the crash of confusion down, and I ran through the house and bounded upstairs.
I went straight to the end of the hall and tossed open the door to River’s room.
My gaze raved as I looked around.
I made the quick decision and cut through the en suite bathroom to the walk-in closet at the back.
I tore open the door, scanning, unsure of where to start or what I thought I was looking for. Just knowing I had to do something.
I went to the row of shirts hung on the racks to the right, and I parted the sections, pushing them back to see if anything was behind them.
My stomach twisted when I came up with nothing.
I kept moving, digging through his things, my movements growing more agitated with every second that passed. I tossed his shoes off the shelves and pulled pants from where they were stacked, toppling everything to the ground as I searched.
I wheezed in a torrent of frustration before I moved to the opposite side of the closet and began doing the same.
Ransacking River’s things.
There were a bunch of boxes on the top shelf that I could barely reach, and I jumped, knocking them free. I ripped off their lids and dumped their contents onto the floor.