Chapter 22 - Ethan
Ethan
“She can’t be gone.”
“She’s gone.”
“She’s probably just hiding somewhere.” I breathed through the threat of panic, and begged Will with one look to tell me what I wanted to hear. “Did you check the linen closet?”
This time he didn’t bother saying anything. Probably because it would be the same thing he’d been repeating.
“What do you mean, she’s gone?” Maren was already moving, faster than me, and I followed her to the staircase, heart hammering in my chest. Will stayed rooted to the spot, and hiked his thumb in the direction of the girls’ room upstairs.
We stopped right at the threshold and took a breath. Sadie was still sound asleep, and we didn’t want to go barreling in there and scaring her.
Her backpack was gone. Every little scrap of craft paper, her markers, the glitter glue she loved. All of it. My stomach dropped. I could hear Gabe’s voice in my head, talking about how he could never forgive me. Sissy tearing into me for not keeping her little girl safe.
Miles and Adrian appeared in the hallway at the same moment I processed it. Miles had his phone out before I could even breathe. “I’m calling the cops,” he said, voice tight.
“Not yet.” Sadie had begun to stir, and I waited for her to open her eyes. “Sadie? Sadie, sweetie, wake up.”
“Uncle Ethan?” Her voice was thin and weighed down with sleep.
Maren stepped closer, her hands gentle as she scooped Sadie into her lap. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” she murmured. Her voice had that calm I’d seen her use a hundred times with the kids, but now it was anchoring me too. “Did Emma say anything to you about going for a walk tonight?”
She frowned at Maren, and then Emma’s empty bed. Her lip trembled. “Where’s Emma?”
“She always does this,” Will said quietly. He stuck with Adrian just outside the bedroom. “Whenever she’s mad at Mom or Dad. She runs off. But… she never goes far.”
I clenched my fists. Never goes far. That was supposed to help, right? But knowing Emma’s stubborn streak as I did, I felt a cold knot of dread tighten.
“I’m calling the cops,” Miles said again, and disappeared down the hall.
“I don’t understand.” Maren looked as stunned as I felt. “Why was she mad? I thought she was fine after we talked things out.”
Will shrugged.
“We could go get her ourselves,” Adrian said. “It’s freezing out there, but we’d probably find her before the cops even show up.”
Miles reappeared at his shoulder, face somber. “They told me to call back in forty-eight hours if she’s still missing.”
Forty-eight hours. No fucking way.
I exhaled through my nose, trying to control the tension I felt snapping inside me. I needed to think, come up with a next step. And fast. Sadie’s sniffles weren’t helping, nor was Maren’s hushed tones of comfort in the dim light.
I avoided her gaze. My pulse was high, but I wasn’t sure what else I was feeling. Anger? Fear? Or was it a little bit of both?
Will watched all of us, and I could feel the weight of his quiet judgment. “Uncle Adrian’s right,” he said finally. “She might still be close.”
Maren nodded, already standing to get Sadie dressed for the late November cold. Dragging the kids onto the street at this time of night. Ridiculous. Unnecessary.
“How did this happen?” I said, to myself mostly, as we hurried back downstairs.
“She sometimes—”
“Your mom and dad’s never said anything about this to me before,” I cut him off, and Will fell silent. “They’ve never once mentioned Emma running off.”
“Let’s get moving.” Maren brushed past me to grab coats and scarves, tossing one to me without a word. “We’re wasting time talking about it.”
The street hit us immediately. Lights strung up on houses glimmered like stars, wreaths on doors, everyone feeling the holidays. While my feet felt like lead on the sidewalk, a boulder sitting in my gut. Every passerby, every car, every jingling bell made my stomach drop further.
“She could be anywhere.”
Miles patted my shoulder. “We’ll find her. You’ll see.”
His reassurance didn’t do what he intended. I’d lost my brother’s kid. I’d been the summer uncle since it was only Will, barely out of diapers. The worst thing to happen in all these years of visits was Emma shoving a marble up her nostril.
Maren held Sadie’s hand, her eyes scanning the partially deserted streets, her voice quiet as she tried to reassure the little girl. Emma’s absence made every laugh we heard feel like a knife twisting.
“We’ll find her. I promise,” Maren whispered, sounding like she was trying to convince herself more than the five-year-old.
I kept glancing at her. She had this way of holding the moment together, but it wasn’t working this time. Every time I heard her voice, no matter how soothing, something grated my frayed nerves. I sped up to walk with Miles and Adrian.
Will kept pointing out potential hiding spots for Emma. “She might have gone toward the park. Or the fountain.”
He was trying to be helpful, but all it did was agitate the swirling guilt inside me. That, and the nagging fear that he might be wrong. Because what if we were all wrong, and I’d have to call Gabe and explain how I lost his kid because I was distracted by the nanny.
Adrian muttered under his breath. “I just hope she stays put somewhere.”
“She’s a smart girl,” Maren said. “She took all her craft stuff, so she’s likely holed up somewhere drawing a picture or something.”
The tension built with every step. People I passed smiled at the display of families out for the holidays, but for me, every smile, every song drifting from a car’s stereo, was just noise.
Emma’s absence made the city feel surreal, like I’d slipped into someone else’s cheerful life while my own was unraveling.
I tried to keep track of every moment, every detail—the direction she might have gone, the likely hiding spots, the weather, the time ticking by.
Maren kept a hand on Sadie’s back, whispering softly, keeping her calm, but I could see the strain in her face.
I could feel the effort it took for her to keep her tone neutral.
She wasn’t just managing Sadie; she was bracing herself against a tide that could wash her out if she let her own panic surface.
“Do you think she’s mad at me?” Sadie asked suddenly, and Maren’s pause was telling.
“No, baby,” she said gently. “Sometimes we get upset, and it doesn’t mean we’re mad at the people who care about us.”
“What if she’s hiding somewhere we can’t see?” Will muttered, tugging on my sleeve, trying to take initiative.
I exhaled, rubbing my face. What was the point of fighting off the worst case scenario if he kept saying things like this out loud?
“We’ll find her.” My voice sounded hollow. We’d repeated those words so many times since leaving the house, they were beginning to lose all meaning.
The city moved around us, indifferent to the panic threading through our small group. Holiday lights reflected in puddles, carols spilled from shops, couples laughed as if none of this mattered. But to us, Emma’s absence made the world feel jagged, wrong.
Every corner we turned, every door we checked, the urgency ratcheted higher.
And all the while, the kids were right there, asking questions, pointing out possibilities, adding to the chorus of anxiety and hope.
Each comment was innocent, but it unraveled us slightly more, made the situation sharper, closer to the breaking point.
And still, Emma was nowhere to be found.
I was running, every step fueled by panic, my chest tight, throat dry, the cold biting at my cheeks, as Maren and the others struggled to keep pace behind me.
Park Drive opened up in front of me, too long and too empty.
I kept moving, checking each recessed doorway as I passed, refusing to think about what it meant that she wasn’t in any of them.
I couldn’t breathe thinking of her wandering alone out here.
“Ethan… wait.” Maren’s voice cut through the rush in my head. “Just stop a second. We need to think, not keep sprinting blind.”
My feet slowed, but everything else raced on without me. “Thinking isn’t getting us anywhere,” I threw back, eyes still sweeping the street.
“It might,” she said, breath coming hard. She stepped in front of me, palms lifted like she was trying to corral a wild animal. “Let’s be smart about this. If we were Emma, where would we go? We need to look—”
“That’s what I’m doing.” The words scraped their way out of my throat. “I’m looking.”
“Ethan,” she said, quieter, steadier. “Look at me. You’re running yourself into a wall and making it harder to—”
“Harder?” I barked out a laugh that had nothing funny in it. It drew looks of alarm from Miles and Adrian, but I didn’t give a fuck. “She’s nine, Maren. Nine. And she’s out here alone because we keep—”
She reached for my arm like she meant to steady me or tether me or something equally impossible right now. “Ethan, please. Just breathe. We’re not working against you.”
That did it. Something cracked. This whole time I thought it was panic, or fear. Emma. But that was only part of it.
“Oh, is that what this is?” I spun toward her so fast a woman with a stroller yanked it out of my path.
Heat shot through my chest, hot and ugly.
“Because from where I’m standing, this keeps happening on your watch.
First the harvest market, now this.” My voice rose, and I couldn’t reel it back.
“It stops being accidental when it becomes a pattern.”
Her eyes widened, brimming with hurt. Which somehow made me feel worse, not better.
I pushed on anyway, unable to stop myself. “I hope you were a better teacher than you are a nanny.”
I hated myself the second the words left me. But the panic had taken over. My nephew’s and nieces’ safety was consuming me.
Adrian put a hand on my shoulder “Ethan, come on. This isn’t her fault. It’s nobody’s fault. We’re doing everything we can—”
“Don’t tell me what to do.” I shook him off and pivoted down a side street, not bothering to check if they followed.
I didn’t care. I shouted Emma’s name, ignoring the looks I got from people walking by.
Ignoring the bile that rose in the back of my throat every time I pictured Maren’s face when I blamed her for this.
My chest pinched, but there wasn’t any time for guilt.
Not now. Not when I could feel my heart pounding in my ears, imagining the worst.
Nothing mattered but finding Emma.
Miles jogged up beside me and touched my elbow so I’d slow down. We walked a few steps in total silence, not looking at each other because our eyes were busy scanning the area for any glimpse of Emma.
“I know it’s not the time, but you’re being a total dick. You know that, right?”
I fumbled for some defensive excuse. “I—”
“No,” he cut me off, his tone deadly serious. “Nobody’s to blame for this. And you? You handled it like an asshole.”
The words struck harder than I expected, and I swallowed the lump in my throat. I knew he was right. I’d lashed out at Maren for something beyond her control. Panic had overridden reason, and the guilt and adrenaline collided in a way that made my stomach churn.
Will’s sharp voice cut through the tension. “There! She’s over there!”
I swiveled, heart hammering, and saw him running across the square, little fists pumping. Sadie tore after him. My lungs screamed at me to hold them back, to be careful, but I shut it down. I was running too.
He was right. Emma. Between the lambs, nestled in the center of the nativity scene outside Fenway Church, her cheeks streaked with tears, shivering in the cold. Her tiny backpack lay abandoned on the ground beside her.
Relief hit me like a wave, nearly knocking me to my knees.
I skidded to a halt and knelt beside her, voice rough. “Emma! It’s okay, I’ve got you.” She flung her arms around me, sobbing, repeating sorrys between gasps.
Hugs were exchanged, warm bodies huddling together against the chill, and I stepped back slightly, letting Maren, Adrian, and Miles approach. They wrapped her up, murmuring reassurances, brushing snow from her hair, letting her feel safe.
I stood aside and watched them engulf her with warmth, while I fought back tears. This was the outcome I’d been hoping for, but it still felt pretty surreal standing there. Knowing she was safe.
My eyes found Maren, who’d also taken a step back to catch a breath, center herself. The ache of the evening… all the fear, the guilt, all of it hit me like a fresh blast, and I realized how much I’d let my panic dictate my actions. Miles was right. I’d been a total dick to her.
I crossed the small distance, hands ready but hesitant, unsure if she’d let me, unsure what she’d say after my outburst.
“Maren,” I said softly, meeting her eyes. “I’m… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said. I was panicking. Afraid something might’ve happened to her. I— I shouldn’t have said those things.”
She said nothing. My stomach twisted. I wanted her to tell me it was okay, touch her hand to my face and thaw the block of tension icing over in me. But she just stood there and looked at me. No, not at me. Not really. It felt more like she was looking through me.
I tried again. “Maren? I said I was sorry.”
She cleared her throat and stood a little straighter. The look in her eyes was hard enough to strike me down at the knees. “I’m glad your niece is okay. And also, I quit.”
Nobody noticed her turn and walk away, her boots beating a steady path down the sidewalk. Just me, standing in the echo of my own stupidity.