Page 139 of Visions of Darkness

Her lips moved but no sound came out.

Help us.

Dizziness rushed, and I had to hold on to the counter to keep from reaching for her, to keep from clambering over it to get to her.

I bit down on my tongue to keep Brianna’s name from sliding from it.

“Um, did you want something?” The girl angled her head, a perplexity furrowed deep into her brow as she waited for me to answer, her face her own again. I attempted to clear my throat when it became apparent that I’d been staring.

“I’ll have the same thing.” I croaked it, barely able to form the words.

“Aria?” Pax’s voice was razor thin. Low and harsh and urgent.

I swallowed around the bile in my throat. “I’m just ... I need to wash my hands.”

I took off toward the restroom.

“Aria.” Panic wheezed through my name when he called out behind me. I didn’t slow. I rushed down the side hall and into the restroom. I went to the sink, turned on the faucet, and splashed cold water on my face, trying to breathe through the tumult that I couldn’t shake.

And I thought maybe I had finally snapped. Lost the sanity my parents had never thought I possessed. I wished it were true. I wished it were that easy.

But I knew.

I knew.

I smacked at the handle of the paper-towel dispenser, then ripped a piece free, my breaths ragged as I pressed it to my face and prayed it would blot out the images that racked my mind.

Behind me, the door swung open, and I whirled, expecting it to be Pax. I figured he wouldn’t let me out of his sight.

I could see that he was out in the hall, peering in at me from behind the woman who came in instead, holding the hand of a little girl with blue eyes. I could feel the war of reservations and resolve spiraling through him, and I knew he was half a second from barging in to find out what was wrong.

“I’ve got to go pee really bad, Mommy,” the little girl said.

“I know, sweetheart.”

The woman led her to the first stall, and the child turned and grinned up at her mother. “I’m a big girl, so I get to do it all by myself.”

Her mother let go of an affectionate laugh. I could feel the love that radiated from her. The solid devotion. “Okay, but let’s get you a seat cover first.”

She helped the little girl get situated, then stepped out and shut the stall door.

She smiled in my direction, though I thought it had to have been the first time that she’d actually looked at me, because she flinched when she met my eyes. Eyes I should have kept hidden, but I wasn’t thinking straight right then.

She fought to keep the kindness on her face as she searched the distress on mine. “Are you okay?” she chanced. Her tone reeked of caution.

I swallowed around the ball of barbed wire in my throat, tamping down some of the desperation but allowing a small amount to remain.“I think I lost my phone, and I was supposed to call my mom and let her know when I finished breakfast and was heading to school. I’m going to get grounded again.”

I wrung my hands together, and the tear that streaked down my cheek was real.

Desperate.

A plea.

Her laugh was soft. “Oh, I remember those days ... And we can’t have your mom being worried about you. I know how I’m going to feel when Cassidy is your age.”

She dug into her back pocket and pulled out her phone. “You can use mine if it will help.”

“Really?”

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