Page 181 of Come Back to Me

Thoughts of Marcy have my mood sinking. Another of Clyde’s victims? I guess I’ll find out if we have another to add to his body count today.

I tip my chin at his response and feel like a fool for being jealous when this conversation’s so important. But Tee’s important too. And the town knowing she’s off-limits is equally as imperative to my fucking sanity, which isn’t aided by her desire for our relationship to remain a secret.

Gritting my teeth, because I know I’m lucky to be getting that much out of her, I head into the house and find Elena in the living room. Shedoeslook a lot brighter today. Her face is still drawn, but her eyes seem less wild.

Knowing that this is an incredibly temporary reprieve, I resolve to get as many answers as I can.

If Claywasmurdered, this is beyond a cold case. There’s no point in dredging shit up, nor can I just let it go.

“Hi, Elena,” I greet, keeping my tone soft as I crouch in front of the recliner where she’s sitting, a home-knitted blanket tucked around her knees.

When I think about her being the same age as Mum, how haggard Elena appears breaks my fucking heart.

I tried to research Alzheimer’s, but all I read was shit I didn’t understand or information I already knew.

Fading—that’s what she’s doing.

Right before our very eyes.

The woman she was is no more, and the woman she’ll be tomorrow is one we may not recognize. Worse still, she may not either.

“Cody, my goodness, it’s wonderful to see you.” She struggles to sit up then settles for patting my cheek when even that’s too much for her. “You’re so grown up.”

I smile. “I kind of am.”

“When did that happen?”

“Mom, he’s here to talk to you about Clay.” A scowl flutters over her brow, but as I get to my feet, Bast mutters, “Don’t let her focus on the changes in you. It sets her off.”

Nodding my understanding, I settle on the couch opposite her, where Tee’s seated.

“What are you doing home, Christy?”

“I’m thinking of moving back,” she half-lies. “New York’s no fun.”

“That’s disappointing to hear. I used to dream of the city lights,” Elena muses.

“It’s nice enough,” is Tee’s cheerful reply, “but there’s no place like home, is there?”

Elena’s disapproval says she doesn’t agree. “I was so proud when I heard you’d made it into Juilliard.”

“You’re the reason I did.”

“Your parents are such sticks in the mud.” Her fingers pleat her blanket. “Honestly, not everyone can be a homemaker or an educator.”

“Exactly!” Tee cries. “God, Mrs. Frobisher, I wish you could talk to them again.” She folds her arms like she’s a moody teen, not a twenty-six-year-old woman. Then, she throws in her patented pout. “You were the only one who could ever talk any sense into Dad.”

“That’s because he wanted to get into my panties.”

Tee’s eyes bug before she croaks, “Mrs. Frobisher?”

“Mom!” Bast barks.

But Elena giggles. “What, Sebastian? Iama woman. You’re old enough to know that.”

“You’re definitely a hottie,” I half-tease.

“Cody!” Bast growls.

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