Page 3 of Finding Home

I swipe into the app and press Claudia’s name . . . and gasp loudly at her location.Claudia is at the downtown Seattle police station. At least, her phone is.

Did Claudia lose her phone and someone brought it in? Or was Claudia the victim or witness to a crime last night? Please, God, don’t let it be that Claudia fell off the wagon and got herself arrested for drunk driving. If that’s the case, I never saw it coming. Yes, Claudia has been grieving her mother’s death; but as a general matter, she’s seemed happier than ever over the past year or so, ever since she ditched Ricky’s ass, and we fell into our happy, peaceful routine with Raine.

My breathing jagged, I smash the button to call Claudia. If she’s sitting in a jail cell, she won’t be able to pick up, obviously. But if?—

“Hello?”

A chill shoots down my spine. That’s not Claudia’s sweet, kewpie-doll voice. That’s the voice of a man—a complete stranger.

“I’m calling for Claudia,” I manage to say, despite my somersaulting stomach. “This is her phone.”

“We’ve been waiting for someone to call, since the phone is locked. Who am I speaking with?”

Dread tightens its grip on my chest. “Aubrey Capshaw. I’m Claudia’s best friend and roommate. Who’s this?”

“Detective Howard of the Seattle PD.”

My heart stops. “Is Claudia hurt? Does she need bail money or an attorney?”

The man pauses. “Are you sitting down, Aubrey?”

I clutch my chest and squeak out my affirmative reply.

“Claudia was hit by a drunk driver while crossing the street after work last night. I’m sorry to inform you: she suffered catastrophic injuries and died at the scene.”

My brain feels like it’s physically melting inside my skull. “If this is a prank,” I choke out. “Then you’re?—”

“This is very real, unfortunately. I’m sorry for your loss.”

A strangled wail escapes me—a horrible, tortured screech I’ve never heard my body produce before now. It’s the sound of a heart shattering. The sound of a lifelong soulmate being ripped away from its other half. And worst of all, it’s the sound of an innocent, happy two-year-old losing her beloved mommy, in the blink of an eye.

“Maybe it wasn’t her,” I manage between sobs.

“It was definitely her. She had her ID on her and a co-worker identified her. Listen, can you help us contact Claudia’s next of kin? The emergency number Claudia listed at work for her mother doesn’t work, and?—”

“Claudia’s mother died a couple months ago.” With the phone to my ear, I wrap my free arm around myself and rock back and forth, feeling physically ill.

“Can you confirm we’ve got the right number for her father, Ralph Beaumont? We left a voicemail for him to call us, but?—”

“You called Claudia’s father?” I scream at top volume. “She never wanted to see him again! She hated him!”

The officer says something in reply, but I don’t hear a word of it; because, suddenly, Claudia’s tiny, blonde doppelganger is standing in the entryway to the living room with wide, anxious eyes and chaotic bedhead.

“I have to go,” I bark into the phone. Without waitingfor the detective’s reply, I disconnect the call and stride on wobbly legs to the sweet angel who’s got no idea her mommy is never coming home again.

“You not use inside voice,” Raine chides me groggily, rubbing her eyes and yawning. “‘Member what Mommy said?”

With a loud sob, I pull Raine to me and hold her tightly for a long moment, as she babbles about I don’t know what. Finally, when I lean back to look into her eyes, she wipes at my tears with her little hand and says, “You have boo-boo, Auntie Aubbey? You need Band-Aid?”

The two innocent questions shatter the last remaining shards of my heart. That’s what Claudia always asks her baby girl, whenever she cries for as-yet unknown reasons.

Without waiting for my reply, Raine adds, “I get Mommy.”

She starts to wriggle in my arms, presumably aiming to get down and run to her mommy down the hall, but I keep a firm grip on her and bring her to the couch. “Mommy’s not in there, baby. Stay here with me. I need to tell you something important.”

I place her on my lap, facing me. For a long moment, I can’t get another word out, because my chin is quivering too much. But finally, I manage to pull myself together enough to speak in a tight, halting voice. “Rainey, Mommy went to heaven last night. She didn’t want to go. She wanted to stay here with you, forever, but she didn’t have a choice. She had to go.”

Raine tilts her head and scrunches her itty-bitty eyebrows, looking deeply confused. “Like Gramma?”

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