Chapter 19
Claire
The call came around ten in the morning.
I was standing at the stove, stirring eggs slowly, letting them stay soft the way Brandon liked. It was our day off. One of the rare ones where our schedules lined up, where we had nowhere to be and no one to answer to. I’d planned breakfast, lunch, dinner. Nothing fancy. Just time together.
My phone buzzed on the counter.
Bill.
I answered.
“Claire,” Bill said, and his voice sounded wrong. Too fast, too loud. “Lily’s missing.”
For a second, my brain didn’t register the words. They didn’t connect to anything real.
“What?” I spoke.
“We can’t find her,” he continued, urgently. “She’s not here. We thought, is she with you? Did she come over to your house?”
The spoon slipped from my hand and clattered against the stove.
“No,” I said, and the word came out sharper than I meant it to. “No, she’s not here, she’s not with me.”
There was shouting in the background. Doors opening and closing. Panic moving through the line.
“We don’t know where she is,” Bill said. “Emma’s losing it.”
“I’m coming,” I said. “I’ll be right there.”
I hung up before he could say anything else.
For a moment, I just stood there, staring at the stove like it might tell me what to do. The eggs were starting to stick. The burner was still on.
I turned it off. Grabbed my keys. That was it. Two minutes, maybe less.
I didn’t change into clothes, didn’t even grab a jacket.
As I reached the front door, it opened.
Brandon stepped inside with two grocery bags hooked over his arms, his coat half off his shoulders. He smiled when he saw me.
“Food smells great, honey,” he said, setting the bags down. “I got everything you wanted.”
I didn’t let him continue.
I leaned in, kissed his cheek quickly, barely registering the warmth of his skin, and pulled back.
“I have to go,” I said. “Lily’s missing. I’m going to the Walkers’.”
His smile fell, confusion replacing it almost instantly.
“Missing?” he said. “What do you mean missing?”
“I don’t know,” I said in irritation, already reaching for the door again. “Bill just called. They don’t know where she is.”
I was already moving past him. I couldn’t stand still. I couldn’t explain. Until I saw Lily with my own eyes, that sinking, helpless feeling wasn’t going anywhere.
I stepped outside, the cold air hitting my face, and headed straight for my car.
Behind me, I heard the door open again.
“Claire,” Brandon called. “Wait.”
I clenched my jaw and kept walking.
He followed me down the front steps.
“What happened?” he asked. “Slow down. What’s going on?”
I unlocked the car with shaking fingers.
“I told you,” I said, trying not to sound as sharp as I felt. “They don’t know where Lily is.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” he said. “How does a kid just go missing?”
“I don’t know,” I repeated.
He reached out and took the hand that wasn’t holding my keys, stopping me mid-motion. His touch was gentle, familiar, and completely unwelcome.
“Claire,” he said, “have they called the police?”
The question irritated me instantly.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I didn’t ask.”
“Well, they should,” he continued. “If they haven’t, you should be calling them. You going over there isn’t going to help. You’re not going to find her just by showing up.”
Something hot flared in my chest.
“Let go,” I said.
He didn’t, not right away.
“I’m just saying,” he said calmly, like this was a discussion and not an emergency. “Think about it logically. If she’s really missing.”
“This isn’t about logic,” I snapped, pulling my hand free. “She’s a child.”
“And I get that,” he said, still trying to reason it out, “but panicking isn’t going to fix anything. You’re emotionally involved. They need people who can think clearly right now.”
That was the part of him that drove me absolutely crazy.
Not cruel, not intentionally heartless, just… distant. Like everything needed to pass through a filter of practicality before it could matter.
Selfish, sometimes. And not particularly empathetic.
I knew why. Or at least, I thought I did.
His mother was distant and aloof. He talked to her once a year, visited when obligation demanded it, not because he wanted to. It was normal to him. Acceptable.
I couldn’t imagine it.
If my mother were alive, I wouldn’t go a day without calling her. The idea of being satisfied with visiting my favorite person, once a year made my chest ache in a way I didn’t have words for.
I took a breath and forced myself to step closer instead of pulling away.
I hugged him.
It wasn’t the hug I wanted to give. I wanted to shake him. Wanted to yell until he understood the weight of what was happening. But I hugged him anyway, quick and tight, my cheek pressed briefly against his shoulder.
“I have to go,” I said into his coat. “I’ll let you know when I know more.”
He hesitated, then nodded.
“Okay,” he said. “Just, call me.”
I pulled back, got into the car, and slammed the door shut before he could say anything else.
As I backed out of the driveway, my hands shook on the steering wheel.
All I could think about was Lily.
Until I saw her, until I knew where she was, nothing else mattered.