Page 35 of Those Two Words

I clench my eyes shut, count to ten before opening them again, and search the small space in front of me.

Five things. Just five green things.

I manage to find four from my spot on the floor but come up short when I try to find that fifth and final item. It’s too dark in here.

Why didn’t I turn on the lights?

Will anyone find me?

Do I want anyone to find me?

I sink further into the floor. The panic truly has its claws embedded in me.

I’m drowning in grief. In darkness. In sadness. In hopelessness.

There’s no use fighting it anymore, so I succumb to it.

Then all I see is black.

sixteen

PATRICK

Shutting the door behind me, I tiptoe away from the guest room Lottie is sleeping in tonight, carefully avoiding certain floorboards like landmines. One wrong step and the creak of the old boards will wake her up and we’ll be back to square one.

I make my way downstairs and find my mom in the kitchen, even though it’s past midnight.

Carrie had to make an emergency trip out of town, but I’d already made plans with Dex to help him pick up some timber a couple of counties over. My mom would never say no to a sleepover with her granddaughter, so Lottie stayed with her tonight. The long drive and heavy lifting have left me exhausted and sore, and I was about to crawl into bed when my mom called to say Lottie wasn’t well and had been crying for Carrie and me. When I heard Lottie’s muffled sobs over the phone, they just got me to haul ass in my truck quicker.

Three hours later, after lots of tears, and me begging her to take some medicine and rocking her to sleep, she’s finally down. She’s a good kid, but she’s never been great at taking medicine; pair that with her being overtired—yeah, it’s been a long night.

“Hey,” I whisper. She’s making two cups of tea, and the strong smell of peppermint fills the air. She offers me a cup and I take it, hoping it will help me find a few hours of sleep tonight.

“How’s our baby doing?” my mom asks.

“Exhausted, emotional, and grumpy. Lottie is the same.”

My sarcasm isn’t welcomed, and she smacks me on the chest before I walk away, chuckling.

“Ouch.” I rub at the spot. “Am I not your baby?”

“My first baby, but she is the baby,” she replies with an eye roll. I don’t argue with her there. Lottie has everyone wrapped around her pinky without even trying.

“She’s feeling better and finally settled; I doubt she’ll wake up now until the morning. She came down with it fast. Carrie said it was spreading like crazy in her class.”

“Let’s hope it’s a twenty-four-hour bug. Are you at the restaurant tomorrow?”

“Nah, day off. Jo has the afternoon shift covered. I was hoping to take Lottie out to the creek. One of the customers mentioned some bald eagles had hatched nearby,” I say, turning to make my way into the living room.

I take a seat on the sofa and Mom settles in her recliner. The empty chair next to her hasn’t been touched in years, and you can still make out the indentation of when Dad last sat in it.

We get talking about the restaurant and other things, when a buzz from my pocket interrupts us. Pulling out my phone, I’m surprised to see a notification from the security system app telling me the restaurant alarm has just been disabled. After two failed attempts.

The alarm was set hours ago, so what’s this? Neither my brothers nor George have told me that they’d be heading over, and I can’t see why they would at this hour.

My mom must see the concern on my face. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know, but the alarm was just turned off at the restaurant.”

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