Page 32 of One Last Promise

“Do you want to take a bath?”

“Yes, yes, yes, please!”

She laughed. “Okay. Go ahead and run it. Close the door. I’m going out to the car to get our stuff. I’ll see if I can find you something clean.”

Hazel jumped out of the tub, and as Tillie turned to go, she found small arms giving her waist a squeeze. “Thank you!”

She looked at Hazel through the mirror, the smile on her face. “For what?”

“For not makingme sleep in the car.”

Her words punched Tillie right in the sternum, even as Hazel rounded back to the tub and started the water.

Oh, Hazelnut.

She closed the door, hearing Pearl’s voice.“Just don’t let him find her. Don’t let him take her.”

Trying, sis. Why hadn’t she been smarter? And now . . .

She couldn’t think about Moose, not yet. Not until Hazel was clean and safe and sleeping.

Taking another trip to the car, she unloaded her trunk—clothing she’d purchased over the past month. Not much, really—just a sweatshirt and a jacket and some boots, and clothes for Hazel. But they’d been worn so many times, they smelled lived in, survived in, really.

She brought them back inside, then emptied their backpacks and wadded the entire mess into a couple pillowcases she took from the bed.

Hazel was in the bath, splashing, and Tillie knocked, then spoke through the closed door. “Everything okay?”

“I’m a mermaid!”

“Yeah, you are.” She smiled and almost felt a laugh, something foreign and scorched, in her chest. Then she took the clothes in the pillowcases downstairs to the basement.

Nice digs—a sectional sat in front of a massive theater screen, a pool table with the cues in a rack on the wall on the other side. A glass door led somewhere, and when she peeked in, she found a hot tub and a sauna room.

Her thoughts went to Hazel splashing in the tub. She’d die if she saw the hot tub.

Don’t get too comfortable. The thought pinged inside Tillie as she headed down the hall. She peeked into one room, and it looked like an office. The next was an expansive bedroom, not unlike upstairs, but clearly occupied, and a little messy.

She found the laundry room at the end of thehallway. Dumping her clothes into the water, she added some soap and shook her head at the way she was diving into Axel’s suggestion.

She didn’t deserve this. But . . . desperation.

Then she headed upstairs.

She’d brought some food inside—cereal, yogurt, a bag of chips, a few chocolate bars. She’d left any hope of real nutrition behind when Rigger showed up. Now her body craved something substantial. Except, how audacious was it to open his fridge and dive in?

Very. But Hazel was hungry and so was she, so . . .

Steaks. Wrapped in plastic. Along with a salad and broccoli—clearly the dinner he’d left behind. Someone had taken the time to clean up.

She pulled out the salad and the steak. Started to unwrap the plastic when footsteps on the outside stairs stopped her.

She reached for a knife in the block. Because Axel’s other words hung in her head too.“I think he got away.”

She turned off the lights, backed away from the kitchen entrance, hiding.

Please, Hazel, stay upstairs.

Tillie had locked the front door—she’d checked. Still.

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