57. Sydney
fifty-seven
sydney
A noise wakes me up.
My body tenses. I slowly open my eyes, trying to orient myself. The noise has stopped, which doesn’t help me pinpoint what it was or how it woke me up.
We all slept in the living room. We put on a movie, and Oliver fell asleep shortly after. I suspect it had more to do with the painkillers Penn produced and less to do with the company. That’s what I tell myself anyway.
Carter rearranged his legs, helping him lie fully on the couch and not slumped in his seat, while Penn went to find blankets.
He only has one couch—and even that isn’t quite long enough to fit Oliver fully—and the two armchairs. But with no hesitation, Penn directed me toward the armchair he had been sitting in. I curled up on it while he put some folded blankets on the thick rug and sprawled out under me. Like a watchdog, almost.
Now, the bright morning sun burns my eyes, and I squint and blink, trying to adjust.
Oliver is gone from the couch, and so is Carter.
Penn moves into my line of sight, smiling faintly. “The cavalry arrived.”
I frown. Oliver referred to his family the same way…
Oh, no.
“Oh, yes.” He rocks back on his heels as I scramble to sit up. “Everyone got a look at your sleep face as they shuffled past. You’re lucky his mom hasn’t started vacuuming in here yet.”
Now that he says it, the faint hum of a vacuum above us, maybe in one of the far corners of the house, reaches me.
I cover my mouth. “I don’t even have a toothbrush, Penn!”
He snickers. “You can use mine, princess. In the bathroom upstairs.”
I scramble up, leaving him kneeling in front of the empty armchair. I had one experience with his abuela and one with his mother and brother—and I’m pretty sure I made a fool of myself in front of all of them.
I make it to the bathroom without running into anyone else. There are not one or two toothbrushes, but three. I grit my teeth and pick one at random. A decent rinse and a healthy amount of toothpaste erases the fact that I’m using one of the guys’. And let’s not even get started on the fact that Carter brought his own?
Somehow I missed that memo.
Anyway. A hair finger-comb later, and I emerge from the bathroom. It’s a ‘this is as good as it’s gonna get’ situation. But the silence that awaits me… The vacuuming has stopped.
“Sydney,” a warm voice greets me.
I freeze and turn slowly.
His mother comes out of his bedroom, wheeling that damn vacuum.
“Nice to see you again, Mrs. Ruiz.”
She waves me off. “Call me Jackie, please. Thank you for staying with Oliver overnight. And his friends. Although I don’t think I could’ve imagined he’d be friends with the captain of the SJU hockey team.”
I force a laugh. “No?”
Don’t look at the bracelet. Don’t look ? —
She’s wearing it again. Maybe she never takes it off? Maybe it’s a key piece to her daily ensemble? Maybe she only wears it around Oliver, because he gave it to her?—
“Did this catch your eye?” She taps the gold. “Oliver gave it to me for my fiftieth birthday.”
“Oh.” My voice sounds hoarse to my own ears. “It’s beautiful.”
She unclasps it. Slips it off her wrist.
Holds it out to me.
My hands are shaking when I take it. I run my fingers over the designs, like I used to when I was scared and alone as a kid. It was the one precious thing that had history and sentiment attached to it. Everything else in our space was just… filler.
My throat closes, and I hand it back quickly. Otherwise I might be tempted to keep it, to clutch it to my chest and sprint out of the house without looking back.
This is what I came for all those months ago, and now it’s in my hands.
“Beautiful,” I manage.
She takes it back, eyeing me with concern. “You’ve gone pale. Are you okay?”
“Fine.” I clear my throat. “Sorry. I just, uh, didn’t sleep well.”
“You were on the armchair all night?”
I shrug.
“And Penn slept on the floor.” She tuts. “Come on, Sydney, let’s get you something caffeinated. Tea? Coffee?”
She loops her arm in mine, leading me downstairs and into the kitchen. Everyone seems to be gathered there, his abuela, two teens—the brother and who I can only imagine is a sister—and another woman around his mom’s age. Oliver, Penn, Carter.
The second woman more resembles Oliver’s abuela than his mother.
“There she is,” Penn says.
Everyone looks to us.
If I was pale before, I fear I’m trying to blend into a tomato vine now.
Oliver’s mom, who still has ahold of my arm, makes introductions. Felix and his sister, Daniela. His abuela, Juana Ruiz. Her daughter and Oliver’s aunt, Ana.
I don’t think I’ve ever met a boy’s family before.
Even Carter… Our fling didn’t include parent introductions. Not that mine were around much. I kept him and everyone else at arm’s distance. Mom didn’t come visit. Dad was never around—my choice—to introduce.
Although, I suppose now all three of them have met him.
“We need to get Sydney some coffee,” Oliver’s mom says suddenly. “Poor girl slept on an armchair.”
Oliver’s abuela eyes me, but after a beat, she moves to the coffee pot and pours me a mug. I thank her quietly, taking it with both hands. A little cream and sugar from the fridge, and I take refuge between Carter and Penn.
“I charged your phone.” Carter holds it out. “It was almost dead.”
“Thanks,” I whisper. I take it and scroll through the notifications. There aren’t a ton, but… four from Dad stand out. “I’ve got to call my dad.”
I slip out of the room, but it still doesn’t feel like far enough. I shrug on my coat, hat, boots, and step out onto Oliver’s front porch. We got snow overnight, although his walkway and driveway have all been cleared.
Wonder if that was Felix or someone else…
I brush snow off one of his porch chairs and sit, dialing Dad’s number.
“Sydney,” he says upon answering. “Where have you been?”
“Sleeping in Oliver’s living room, accosted by his family…” I shake my head. “Sorry. Carter plugged my phone in and I didn’t have an alarm set.”
“I’m coming by,” he says. “You sound like you could use an escape.”
I pause. “Yeah, I could.”
Five minutes later, Dad’s truck rolls up to the front of Oliver’s house. I stayed outside, and I’m not particularly inclined to go back in and make conversation. I’m just stepping off the porch when Carter comes out.
“Sydney,” he calls. “Where are you going?”
“With my dad…”
“Hang on.” He ducks back in the house.
A second later, he comes out with his jacket in his hand. He follows me to the car and hops in the back without preamble.
Dad twists around and glares at him.
“Good morning, sir,” Carter says with a straight face. “I care about your daughter a lot. No amount of bag skating is going to change that for me. I’m sure you could talk my coach into it, though, if it makes you feel better.”
They seem to have a staring contest, until Dad shakes his head with a noise of disgust. “Fine.”
I smile.
“Where are we going?” Carter asks.
I buckle into the front seat and look to Dad expectantly.
He pinches the bridge of his nose. “The police station.”
“What?” I sit up straighter. “Why?”
“Because you had a break-in, and… they need to talk to you about your mother.”
A chill coasts down my back. “Why now? They haven’t given a shit?—”
“Sydney. Please.” His expression is pained. “It’s where I was before I got to the hospital. I hired you a lawyer?—”
“What?” I screech. “Why?”
“The case was reassigned, and the detective from Emerald Cove seems to think she’s not missing.” He glances at me. “I don’t know if he thinks she ran away or… Either way, he’s liaising with the Framingham police station for now.”
I shake my head. My throat closes. Ran away or what ? Dead?
Not dead.
Why is he even searching up here? I was going to try and find her. I haven’t had a chance to figure out where she went or— Or anything . And now this detective suddenly thinks she’s dead?
“Dad,” I choke out. “That’s not…”
“I’m so sorry, Sydney. I gave them your phone because they don’t have enough evidence to get a search warrant. I know you don’t have anything to do with where she went, but they think…”
“They think I did something?” I cover my mouth. “Or know something?” My voice comes out muffled. “You can’t be serious.”
Too soon, we’re turning into the precinct parking lot. I hop out fast, followed by Carter. He pulls me into a hug before I can bolt. Every part of me wants to sprint away and never come back.
Instead, I give all my fear to Carter. He absorbs it silently, his grip around my shoulders and back firm and unwavering.
“Here he is,” Dad says.
I slowly peel away from Carter.
A tall man strides across the lot toward us. He screams… expensive . That’s the only word that comes to mind.
“Caleb Asher,” he introduces himself to me. “You’re Sydney?”
“Yes.”
He nods once. “Okay. Let me do the talking at first, when we get in there. See what kind of prejudice we’re dealing with before you give them any information. I’ll let you know what questions to answer or not.”
I glance at Dad. “Information besides my phone, which they got last night.”
Caleb Asher’s lips quirk, but he seems to take it in stride because the next second, he’s nodding. “Was there anything incriminating on it?”
“No.”
“Any last messages from your mother? Did she ever threaten you?” He looks at me hard. “They’re going to ask you these questions. I’m going to advise honesty, here, Sydney. They record everything. If you double back on what you say, they’ll use it to make you seem guilty.”
I swallow. “Right. She hasn’t ever threatened me.”
“Okay.” He tips his head toward the doors. “Let’s get this over with. We can end the interview at any time. They haven’t arrested you, so this is just a courtesy.”
Lovely.