37. Evangeline
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
evangeline
N either Lily nor Rye are answering their phones. Since Rye’s house is closest, I drive there first. Slowly. Carefully. Every few seconds, my hands convulse on the steering wheel. I take deep, even breaths and blink rapidly to keep tears from obscuring my vision.
I slow outside Rye’s house and see Lily’s car in the driveway.
I drive past without stopping.
Familiar roads lead to the highway. I merge into traffic. Stay in the slow lane. Exit. Three turns. Six stoplights. A winding road.
I finally park. Turn off the car. Leave my keys, my purse. Stumble up a path to the front door and ring the doorbell.
Footsteps approach.
Wood swings inward.
Blue eyes widen.
“Eva? What’s wrong?”
“D-daddy.”
He catches me as I fall.
As I break.