Page 269 of Heart So Hollow

I crouch down as she begins scooting back out, “What? Did you find something?”

“I found it!” she squeals with excitement.

“What is it?”

As soon as she can rise up on all fours, Barrett sticks her arm in the air in triumph. Clutched in her fist is a rectangular black box. It’s not even the size of my phone. Once she’s on her feet, she holds it flat in her palm for me to see.

“It’s a GPS, Brett!” Barrett’s still riding the high of the find, beaming at the electronic box with pride.

Meanwhile, I’m about to be sick—again.

“How—” I shake my head, stunned, “how did you know what you were looking for?”

Barrett’s face softens, “When we refer domestic abuse victims to shelters, they have to leave behind their cell phones, vehicles, and anything else their abusers might’ve put tracking devices or software in.” She glances up apologetically, “I forget it’s not common knowledge.”

I take the GPS tracker from her and turn it over in my hands.

A brand-new car, complete with a tracking device. A brand-new phone, complete with spyware. Aw, Bowen, you shouldn’t have...

A small, blue light near the end of the unit indicates it’s live. Do I turn it off? Take it somewhere? Is it better to keep it running to maintain the illusion for the time being? Is this what my decisions have been reduced to?

My back pocket begins vibrating, startling me out of my morbid dilemma.

“God, what now?” I mutter, pulling my phone out of my back pocket. I nearly drop my phone and the GPS tracker when I see Hildy’s name flashing across my screen. “Are you kidding me?”

“Answer it,” Barrett clips, “but don’t tell her anything. Get information.”

I nod and turn to head back into the house, “Hello?” I answer, unable to hide my exhaustion and disdain any longer.

“Brett, hey! What’s up?” as soon as I switch to speaker phone, Hildy’s cheery voice explodes out of the mouthpiece, muffled by distortion.

“Just…hanging out,” I stroll aimlessly across the kitchen, dragging my toes along the hardwood, “what are you doing?”

“Well, if you don’t get home too late, you want to stop by the house? We had barbecue and Jay smoked, like, 9,000 ribs. They need to get eaten.”

“Yeah…” I stop short at the corner of the island and stare blankly at the stainless-steel range, “maybe…”

The clock on the range reads 8:02. It’s already kind of late, and I didn’t tell Hildy I’m not home.

She knows, I mouth to Barrett.

“Have you talked to Bowen lately?” I ask, trying to sound upbeat despite the realization that I’m a mouse being drawn into a pit of vipers.

There’s a long pause at the other end of the call, which gives me a small sense of satisfaction. Hildy’s not very good at this sort of thing, evident from the debacle at the Mexican restaurant the other day.

“Sorry, what?” she tries to buy more time.

I roll my eyes and continue my meandering path through the kitchen, “Have you talked to Bowen today?”

“No, not yet. He might’ve been over near Dayton this afternoon.”

As if you wouldn’t know. You run his schedule, Miss Director of Operations…

“And hey,” Hildy changes the subject, “I’m sorry I brought up all that stuff at dinner the other night. I should’ve asked if you wanted to talk about it first.”

I furrow my eyebrows and stare across the floor. As awkwardly as I left that restaurant, it’s odd that Hildy’s not angry with me for spilling the beans about Bowen’s engagement to Emily and Leona’s shitty response to it. Then again, maybe she can’t be angry with me right now…

“Don’t worry about it,” I reassure her, “there’s just…a lot going on right now. And…” I swirl my finger along the countertop, “I had an argument with Bowen last night.”

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