Page 34 of Ten Years Later
And swam.
Her breaths came heavy. She kicked hard at first, then slower as her energy waned. The dark water spanned endlessly toward the moonlit horizon.
Eventually she stopped, treading water as she held Emily in place on the board. Dana stared at the dark abyss. She allowed the water to move her where it wanted. Back on shore the dunes curved the land with faint illumination under the moon. How far had she gone—a mile? Two?
Emily’s giggle floated around them. The ghostly sound made Dana smile. She kissed her daughter’s cheek.
Then, she gently rolled her off the board and let her go.
Dana took her time swimming back to shore. She drifted with the tide, landing over a mile from the SUV. She left the boogie board in the sand and, in her underwear, she walked, using the moonlight and thick net of stars to navigate by.
She wanted to cry, hard, but no tears came.
God damn hot dog.
God damn her for trusting Emily to sit and wait. What the hell kind of mom did that? Emily said she was hungry. Dana should’ve given her something—an apple, a handful of chips, nuts—something. Maybe then Emily wouldn’t have been tempted to bite the hot dog.
Yet she’d eaten hot dogs before. What made this time different?
Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Dana knew better than to take her attention off Emily. Anyone with a four-year-old understood that one basic rule. Watch them like a hawk. This was all Dana’s fault.
All.
Her.
Fault.
Damn her for picking a remote hiking spot with no cell service.
Damn her for being an hour away from a hospital.
Damn her.
Damn her.
Damn her.
22 /CURRENT DAY
Mia spentthe day packing for the move and trying not to think about everything going on with Emily.
Three hours in and she checked her phone, noticing a missed voicemail from Emily’s school wanting to verify her absence.
Mia panicked.
She called Emily’s cell. It went to voicemail. She brought up the app that tracks both of their phones, finding Emily’s off.
Mia grabbed her car keys when the front door to the house opened, and Emily stepped in.
“Where have you been?” Mia demanded.
Emily glared. “Nowhere. Just walking.”
Mia studied her daughter’s uncharacteristically defiant face. “Did you see him?”
“No.”
