Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 64751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
“Oh thank gosh, you’re here.”
Rushing over, she stops in front of me.
“Do you have any idea where she could be?” I ask, my eyes scanning the thick woodland.
“No. She just ran in there. I don’t know how far she went, but she’s not answering our calls.”
Of course she’s not, she’s scared.
“Can all of you stop and leave?” I ask, carefully. “Let me go alone.”
Bonnie’s brow furrows. “But ...”
I offer her a reassuring smile. “Trust me, yeah?”
Nodding, Bonnie disappears, and I follow Western toward Myla’s house where we wait for everyone to come back in. Fury comes striding out from behind a row of large trees, his face tight as he waves his flashlight around. The moment his eyes connect with mine, something inside me jerks. Like an electric bolt going through my body. As he approaches, a certain type of nerves grip me. He makes me anxious.
“She won’t come out.”
Those are the first words he offers me.
I nod, extending a hand for the flashlight. “She is overwhelmed; all the screaming will be making it worse. Let me try.”
Slowly, everyone returns to the house, and they watch in anticipation as I go down the front steps alone, walking off in the direction that Fury pointed to. Once I reach the line of trees, I turn on the flashlight and step in, softly calling Hope’s name. With every step, I call it again, but I also tell her it’s okay, that she’s safe, that I won’t let anything happen to her and she can trust me.
It takes a long time, but patience is my strongest point.
Eventually, a soft sob can be heard coming from behind a large tree.
I don’t rush over; instead, I go over to the tree and sit down, pressing my back to it. I can hear her whimpers on the other side. It breaks my heart, to know she’s so afraid. It’s hard enough to understand your mother going, let alone the fact that you might not see her again for a very long time. She’s only young, she doesn’t know how the world works, and she feels like she has lost everything.
“It really sucks, the news you got tonight,” I say, my voice soft and understanding. “That must have really upset you.”
A small sob.
“I know you’re scared right now. You’re with people you don’t really know, and your mom isn’t here. I would be scared, too.”
Another sob.
My heart clenches for her.
“I wish there was something I could do to make that go away, but I can’t. I can be your friend, though. I might not give you the best hugs, or make your favorite foods, and I’m certainly not your mom, but I will try really hard. Do you think you might let me?”
Silence.
But not a sob.
“You know when I was young, my dad died,” I tell her. “I was only eight. I remember how sad I was. It just felt like all the sadness wanted to come out, and no matter what I did, it wouldn’t stay in. That’s because sometimes, sadness needs a place to go, too. It doesn’t want to stay inside, so letting it out is important. You’re allowed to be sad, honey.”
A shuffle in the leaves, and then Hope appears around the other side of the tree, standing before me. I can’t see her face, and I’m not about to shine a flashlight in it, but I know it’ll be streaked with tears, red and puffy. That’s okay. Pushing to my feet, I reach out a hand, but she doesn’t take it. Instead, she throws herself at me. Catching her, the flashlight tumbles to the ground, but I don’t reach for it.
Instead, I pick the little girl up into my arms and she wraps herself around me, her grip tight on my neck as she hangs on, seemingly afraid if she lets go, I might just disappear. My heart explodes as I hold onto her, reaching down for the light and then making my way out of the woods. As I approach the house, everyone is standing on the patio, watching.
When they see me, I can see the look of relief in their gazes.
Especially Fury’s.
He strides down the steps, but when he reaches me, I shake my head.
Right now, she needs understanding.
“Where is her room?” I ask him, softly.
His eyes flash, almost like he’s torn between two things, but, eventually, he turns and walks back up the steps. As I pass the others, Bonnie reaches out and gives me a grateful squeeze on the arm. I offer her a smile before following Fury into the house and down the hall. There is a room at the back, all painted in pink and made up for a little girl. They’ve done their best to make her feel at home, I can’t fault them for their effort.