Page 98 of Sycamore Circle

Just as he pulled her down a set of brick steps under Sacred Grounds that she’d never noticed before. Pulled her through a door that at first glance looked like boarded-up plywood.

Just as she screamed.

She felt the sting of a blade on her back as the cold, hard bricks of the walkway slapped her head.

All she could think was that Anthony sure wasn’t who she thought he was—and that she really wished she’d answered Bo’s text before she’d left.

CHAPTER 33

Chloe didn’t know where her mother was. Every Sunday night, they went through their calendars and wrote down everywhere they knew each of them was going to be that week. It took a while, and Chloe would be lying if she said it was her favorite activity. But, on the flip side, they’d both agreed to stick to the schedule as well as they could. That meant Chloe knew what days to walk to the diner, when her dad was going to pick her up, and when her mom was. Or when she was supposed to either ride the bus or get a ride home with a friend.

She also knew when and where her mom tutored, and when she was going out to deliver paintings.

All that meant that Chloe had been expecting her mom to pick her up from school. When she was still standing there fifteen minutes later than usual, she knew something was up.

Especially since her mom wasn’t answering her phone and she always answered her phone.

So, she was stuck and she didn’t have her ballet bag. It was probably in her mother’s car, wherever that was.

After trying to call her mom a third time, Chloe knew something was wrong. She tried her dad, but only got an away message. He was out of the office for the day.

Starting to get worried, she called Finn. To her surprise, he answered right away.

“Hey. What’s going on?”

After briefly explaining the situation, she said, “I’m not sure what to do now. I guess I could call one of my friends but what do I do then? I’m supposed to go to dance at four.”

“Well, why don’t you walk over here?” he asked after thinking about it for a minute. “Your mom can always drop off your bag here. And if you don’t get ahold of her, at least you can tell your teacher.”

Just the thought of seeing Miss Diamanté without being perfectly dressed in her leotard and tights made her feel like throwing up. “Maybe.”

“How about this, then? Come here, I’ll get you a malt, then we’ll call Bo.”

She kept forgetting that he knew Bo too. “You don’t think he’ll get mad if I call about my mom?”

“Nope. Maybe he even knows where she is.” He paused. “Um, do you think they could be together?”

She frowned. She knew what Finn was insinuating—that maybe Bo and her mom were together and lost track of time. She supposed that could happen... if it was some other woman besides her mom. “No. My mother lives and dies by our Sunday evening calendar. She doesn’t forget to get me from school. Ever.”

“Okay, then. Well, um, do you want me to see if I can meet you halfway?”

She grinned. This was why she liked Finn so much. He always put her first. No other boy in high school would offer to leave work just to walk her someplace. “I’m good. It’s not far. I’ll see you soon.”

Hanging up, she started down the familiar route. It felt funny, though. Most everyone who left the high school on foot was long gone. She felt conspicuous and awkward. Once again, she doubted her decision to devote so much attention to ballet. If she’d gotten a job she might already be halfway to saving up for a car. Or at least, she wouldn’t be living in fear of a sixty-year-old dance instructor who acted like the world was going to end if she didn’t have her hair up in a perfect bun at five minutes to four.

By the time she got to Lane’s, she was feeling pretty wrung out. Her parents had really spoiled her. She’d always been able to count on them. Now, when neither of them were available, she didn’t know what to do.

“Do you want to sit over at the drink counter or in a booth?” Finn asked.

“I don’t care. Maybe a booth?” she asked. “I’m kind of freaking out.”

His eyes filled with sympathy. “Come on, then. You sit down and then we’ll figure out what to do. Hey, do you want your usual vanilla malt? I could go ask Lane to make it real quick.”

“That would be great... but could we call Bo first?”

“Sure.” Pulling out his phone, he said, “Do you want me to call or do you just want to use my phone and I’ll go away?” He frowned. “I don’t know what most folks would do. Is that weird?”

“I want you to call and sit here with me.”

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