Page 16 of Undone

“No, I’ll come pick you up,” I insisted.

“Okay, but what exactly happened?” she asked. Her voice was quieter now, like she was afraid of the answer.

“I don’t even know… But it’s bad. John is being investigated. He left for his work trip the other day, and I haven’t heard from him since. This morning, the FBI showed up to question me.”

“What did they ask you?”

“If I knew where he’s been. I don’t even know what he’s being investigated for. They wouldn’t tell me anything,” I said, frustration mixing with the helplessness I couldn’t shake.

“I’ll talk to Colt,” she said quickly. “He might not have much sway, but it’s worth a shot.”

“Thanks, Dotty.” The words caught in my throat, but I forced them out. “I hate that you’re coming back under these circumstances, but… I’m really glad you’ll be here.”

“Me too,” she said on a deep sigh. “I’ll send you my flight details once I finish packing. See you soon. Love you.”

“Love you, too,” I said before the line died with a beep.

The stillness around me hit harder than before. I dropped the phone onto the table, staring blankly at it, willing my thoughts to make sense of everything.

But theydidn’tmake sense.

SIX

Noah - November

WHERE’S MY LOVE - SYML

My thumb hoveredover my mother’s contact, dreading the call I couldn’t avoid. Our relationship was complicated, and she and my stepdad knew John almost as well as I did, making it even harder to face.

I had to give her credit—she handled single parenthood until I was ten, balancing it with a full-time job like it was second nature. Then she married my stepdad, who came into our lives after a messy divorce that left him with almost nothing. His ex-wife had taken most of his assets and even tried to get more after he remarried until she finally stopped coming around.

But it never made him bitter. From the start, he was kind and generous in a way that made it easy to love him.

Although my dad looked nothing like me and wasn’t my blood, he was my father in every sense of the word. He showed me what it means to have a man show up for you, even when he wasn’t biologically obligated.

I clicked call and waited, trepidation settling in my stomach.

“Hi, sweetie. It’s been a while since I’ve heard from you. Happy Thanksgiving,” she answered.

My parents lived just outside Seattle, but weeks ago, I told my mom I’d be staying home this year to spend the day with John.

“Hi, Mom. Is Dad there?” I asked, sinking deeper into the couch, curling my legs up beneath me.

“Rick, honey!” she called out. “It’s Noah. I’m going to put you on speaker.”

I exhaled slowly, the phone feeling like a lead weight in my hand. After a beat, I heard the soft shuffle of footsteps, followed by the calm, familiar tone of my dad’s voice.

“Hi, Noah. How are you?” I shifted on the couch, resting my forehead against the back cushion, bringing my knees to my chest.

“Hi, Dad,” I choked back the lump in my throat. “I’m… uh, not great.”

“What is going on?” he asked.

I continued, my words muffled by the couch cushions. “Something’s wrong… with John.”

“What do you mean?” my mom asked. “Is he hurt?”

“I… I don’t think so,” I stammered.

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