Chapter 65
SIXTY-FIVE
The next hour was spent on tenterhooks, waiting desperately for word that Max had been found and was safe.
Quinn and Emma sat together on the sofa, Emma clutching her mother’s hand for support.
Quinn’s heart lodged in her throat as her mind spun out terrible images of a police chase gone wrong—the car flipping, skidding off the road, tumbling down an embankment.
She needed something to distract herself, anything, but now was not the time to retreat into her own thoughts.
She had to remain present and alert, ready to go to Max the moment the call came.
Quinn clung to the hope that he would be returned unharmed and that the police would take over the investigation without pressing him for details.
Max was only a little boy, and he was surely traumatized already.
Perhaps he didn’t even understand what was happening and thought he was going to see his dad, or that he would be brought back to Quinn and Gabe once the man got what he wanted from him.
Alex emerged from the kitchen, his teddy bear held to his chest. “I fixed it,” he said proudly.
“How?” Emma replied.
“I used a packet of honey to stick on the eyes. Seemed right, given it’s a bear,” he said, but the joke nearly made Quinn cry.
“The honey will dry up, and the eyes will fall off,” Emma said, unimpressed.
“They will hold long enough,” Alex said, clearly offended by Emma’s lack of faith in him. “Max will want his bear when he gets back.”
The children fell silent, and Quinn got up for the hundredth time and went to the window, desperate to see an approaching police car. But all was quiet. Gabe came to stand behind her and wrapped his arms around her.
“You’re trembling,” he said.
“I can’t bear this waiting.”
“Go,” Gabe whispered into her hair. “Escape for a little while. I will come and get you if there’s any news.”
It felt wrong to escape to the past, but Quinn was so tightly wound up, she thought she might crack if they didn’t hear news of Max soon. She longed to step away from this terrible uncertainty for even a few minutes.
“Go,” Gabe said again.
She nodded and headed to the bedroom. The earring was in its container on the bedside table, the gold and delicate gems winking in the bright light. How sad that the earrings and a bangle were all that was left of a beautiful young woman who’d still had so much living left to do.
“What happened to you, Geneva?” Quinn whispered as she reached for the container and opened the lid.
She sat on the bed, leaned against the headboard, and dropped the earring into her hand. The world around her fell away, and she was once again in 1923, on the night of the New Year’s Eve celebration.