Page 75 of One Last Promise

Tillie drew in a breath. “We talked about this.”

“He said he was, and I keep having this nightmare . . .”

“What nightmare, honey?”

“I don’t know.” Hazel ran her hands over her cheeks. “There’s shouting, and then you’re there, and you’re fighting with him.”

Oh. No. That couldn’t be?—

“And I’m so scared, I’m hiding under a table, and then he’s trying to grab my feet, and I can’t get away?—”

Okay, that part wasn’t real. She held Hazel’s face in her hands. “That’s not going to happen. That willneverhappen.”

“Promise me you’ll never leave me, Mommy.”

“I promise, with everything inside me. Never.”

Hazel nodded and Tillie again pulled her close. “C’mon. We’re going to go see Grandma Roz as soon as we’re packed.” She met Hazel’s eyes, and Hazel smiled, then wiped more tears and took off for the house. Hazel knew the code at the door and was inside and in her room by the time Tillie went through thehouse to the patio.

Indeed, the pavers had been moved, the waterproof box opened, the space emptied.

She knelt beside the space a moment; then her gaze went to the charred playset. She’d steer Hazel clear of that sight.

But how had he figured out their hiding space?

She got up and went to Pearl’s old room, opened the closet, and pulled down a small duffel bag from the hidden rafter space above.

Passports,thank you, Hecktor,and cash—just a couple thousand. She should have grabbed it all before, probably, but . . .

But she hadn’t wanted to believe that she’d have to leave her life behind.

She opened a drawer and took out Pearl’s diary—for Hazel someday—and then shoved it all into a backpack, along with a fleece jacket. She shoved a ball cap on and headed to her room.

Hazel was there, her Nanea American Girl doll sticking out from the top of her backpack, along with twoElla Diariesbooks and a book of stickers.

Right. Tillie grabbed the locket on the dresser, stuck that in her pocket, then pulled her fleece from her closet, as well as a sweatshirt and a pair of jeans. “Let’s go.”

Hazel grabbed her backpack, zipping it as she headed for the door.

And weirdly, as if a piece of her past rose to take possession, it felt like they might be running out into a war zone, her sergeant in her ear.“Remember your training. Improvise. Adapt. Overcome. Oorah.”

Tillie pulled Hazel back. “Stay with me.”

“Mom, you’re hurting me.” Hazel pulled out of her grip, then headed toward the car.

In Tillie’s wildest nightmare, Rigger emerged from the woods on either side of the house, charged, and grabbed Hazel. Threw her in his car. Then it would be all over, wouldn’t it?

But no. Hazel got in, and Tillie climbed intothe front. “Buckle up.” Then she pulled out and tried not to floor it, her heart in her throat.

Sheesh, she’d worked herself into a downright lather. Probably over nothing. Probably, Rigger was on a plane back to Florida with his family.

Probably.

She blew out a breath at the stop sign, another at the light, and by the time she hit the freeway, she’d left the nightmare in her rearview mirror.

Turning on the radio, she glanced at Hazel. She’d pulled out Nanea and had her seated on her lap, talking to her in low tones. Oh, she was so much like Pearl. Sometimes it took Tillie’s breath away, seared her, right through to her bones.

Don’t worry, Pearl. I got this.

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