Page 81 of Locke

Donatella was still smashing her cheese when I abandoned the plates and hurried across the floor and down the stairs, my legs moving like a jackhammer. “Hil!” I called out again, scanning the toy room. I raced into the pitch-black bedroom, switching on the light. He wasn’t in here. I checked the bathroom next, feeling panicked now because he was gone.

Hurrying back out, I took off upstairs because I’d left Donatella in her highchair. She was still eating it when I checked on her, and then I took off again, combing through the living room and then climbing up to the third level where their bedrooms were. I tore their rooms apart, calling out his name every few moments.

Where the hell was this kid?

Could he have gone into his father’s office?

I’d only been gone a couple minutes when Donatella’s cries sounded and I hurried back to her, feeling winded and lightheaded with panic. I removed her from the highchair and carried her, stopping once in front of the television to look it over, pleading for this kid to appear.

My breaths picked up as I stared dizzily at the bottom level, a horrible niggling feeling telling me that I had overlooked something. Then at once my breathing stopped entirely.

The door.

The fucking door leading to the backyard.

I took off running, holding her to me as I dashed back down and went to it.

The door was closed but unlocked. Oh, my God. I whipped the door open, screaming, “Hil! Are you out here?!”

Turning on the porch light, the backyard lit up, too. The yard was totally empty, but a squeaking hinge caught my attention. I glanced at the yard gate and found it swinging.

My knees weakened, and I nearly collapsed. Before I could even think of running out of there, the fire alarm upstairs went off, blaring loudly.

The lasagne.

I’d left the lasagne on broil in the oven.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!

I hurried inside, the smell of burning already trailing into the bottom level. At the blaring sound, Donatella clutched me tightly, screaming her head off.

“What is going on?” Ryan shouted out from the staircase. “Kali? There’s smoke in the kitchen. Everything alright?”

Tears pricked my eyes as I whispered, “I messed up.”

Twenty-Six

Kali

It had been another five minutes of searching when the police were called. He wasn’t in the backyard, and he wasn’t in the house. Ryan told me to stay with Donatella as he took off outside, searching for Hil. He looked so panicked. He seemed terrified, and I—I—I had fucked up.

Donatella sobbed in my arms, and I could hardly console her because I had shut down, barely able to concentrate as I stared at the outside screens, watching as residents across the street came out of their homes to help look for him.

What had I done?

Why didn’t I bring him up here?

When had he left?

I held in my tears, feeling my throat thicken.

Then Ryan came into view minutes later, and he was carrying a small figure in his arms. I let out a choked sound, relief so heavy, I wanted to collapse.

I went straight to the door, still carrying Donatella in my arms. Ryan came through, and the second my eyes connected to his, I knew he was done with me. The look he gave me was murderous. Without a word to me, he took his son upstairs for a quick rinse because he was covered in dirt.

Heart still speeding, I fed potato salad to Donatella in the meantime, seeing as how the lasagne was butchered. She passed out in my arms a short while later, and I just carried her the whole time, dropping my face to hers, knowing I was probably never going to hold her again, and suddenly that hurt. A lot. Holding her was like holding Aurora and I’d never get this time again.

“Give her to me,” Ryan said from behind me. I twisted around as he came into the kitchen, holding his arms out. I squeezed her one last time and handed her over.

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