Page 20 of Searching for Hope

Jericho dismisses my idea, without even acknowledging it. “Look, I’m not saying that this isn’t promising. Hopefully something will come of the connection with the Gormans, I just don’t want you to get disappointed if it doesn’t. I’ve been looking for her for years. History dictates this could be nothing but a dead end.”

He places a finger under my dropped chin. “Hey.” He tilts my head up until I meet his gaze. “I appreciate what you’re doing though, okay? I appreciate it more than you’ll ever know. The fact that you’re willing to help, it means a lot.”

I don’t know what to say in reply, so I nod glumly, all the excitement, the thrill of the last few hours draining from my body.

“I need to go make some phone calls. We’ll talk tomorrow.” And then he walks down the hall without even a backward glance my way.

Rapid but light footsteps replace his fading ones.

“Berkley!” Ette flies into me, her arms wrapping around my waist and her head pressing into my chest. “I missed you. I missed you so, so much.” Her voice is muffled against my clothing. “Miss Jones made me do so many boring lessons and wouldn’t let me stop even once to dance.” She lets go and steps beside me, taking my hand in hers as a puffed Mrs Bellamy appears. She stops and places her hands on her knees, taking a few seconds to catch her breath as Ette continues to talk. “Alma said that she would dance with me, but then Mrs Bellamy told her to not be silly because she didn’t know how to dance a lick. I don’t know how to dance a lick either, but I have been practicing in my room at night. You said you were going to be home this morning.” She drags me down the hallway, ignoring Mrs Bellamy’s frown as we pass. “Why weren’t you home when you said you would be? Mrs Bellamy said there could be lots of reasons. She even said you could have had a car accident. Not a bad one though. One of the ones when you get a flat or something. You didn’t get a flat or something, did you?”

We’ve walked past the dining hall and the kitchen by the time she takes her first breath. I relay the child-friendly version of events from our trip to the city as Ette continues to drag me down the hallways and passages. We pass by Gideon. He smiles and tousles Ette’s hair before narrowing his gaze and walking by me with an air of dismissal. He still hasn’t forgiven me for who I am. He blames me for casting some sort of spell over his brother, accusing me of wheedling my way into their lives rather than the other way around. He barely talks to me, barely tolerates me. He’s drunk most of the time and the staff avoid him whenever possible to save themselves from being yelled at. He’s nothing like he first came across. I thought he was the honest one, the open one. It turns out he was just open about revealing everyone’s secrets and faults but his own.

Ette takes off her sweater and tosses it to the side. “Now, finally we can have a free-dance session. Is your foot all better now?”

“Mostly,” I say, holding it out in front of me and rolling it around.

“Good. Then we can both dance,” she says decidedly.

And that’s exactly what we do. For the next hour, Ette and I dance and jump and laugh and twist and then fall to the ground in an exhausted heap. I get lost in the music. I forget all about my father and trying to find Hope. I forget about Michael and his parents.

And I forget about Jericho.

I forget about him at dinner when he doesn’t appear.

I forget about him as I read Ette a bedtime story.

I forget about him as I float on the surface of the pool watching the storm clouds float by.

I forget about him as I huddle in my bed. Alone.

And then I forgot about him as I rise the next morning and do it all again.

But I don’t forget how to lie.

chapter eight

JERICHO

From my office I can hear the sound of their laughter even over the thud of the music. I’ve been staring at the computer screen for over half an hour now and nothing is making sense. All I can concentrate on is the sound of her laughter. If I close my eyes, I can see the smile on her face and the way she tosses her head back as though she doesn’t have a care in the world.

She is a fucking distraction.

Shoving my chair back, I storm down the stairs, my annoyance growing the closer I get to the dance studio. I’m ready to barge through the door and demand their silence when something stops me. It’s the sound of Ette’s laughter. It’s quieter than Berkley’s, more of a giggle than a laugh. But what stops me in my tracks is the fact that I’ve never heard it before. Not like this.

Through the crack of the open door, I watch them. Ette and Berkley are holding hands. They twirl around and around, faster and faster until Ette’s feet lift from the floor and Berkley is holding her as she flies in circles.

Their joy is unbridled. Their smiles are infectious. The sound of their happiness almost hurts. It causes this tightness in my chest, this ache I didn’t know even existed.

This is what Ette needs.

This is what she deserves.

My annoyance fades and I rest my head against the door, the handle still in my hand as I watch them.

Berkley.

She has become the bane of my existence.

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