FORTY-TWO
The forest was black as midnight and she crumpled to her knees, hiding behind a tree. She tried not to sob as fear clawed her.
She screamed when something furry rubbed against her. But then she realized it was Mr. Bojangles. She lifted the rabbit into her arms and buried her face in his fur.
Erica wanted to pray, but the words got choked up in her throat and even her heart. She had to find her way back home. She had to tell someone that a bad man had taken Missy. A flashlight grew brighter, bouncing all over the woods.
Oh no. He’d come back for her. She released Mr. Bojangles. At least one of them could escape this night.
The flashlight fell to the ground and rolled. Feet pounded against the ground.
He was coming for her.
She pressed against the tree and screamed, ready to claw and fight.
Arms gripped her. A familiar vanilla scent wrapped around her and chased away the fear. Erica’s mother pulled her into a tight hug and spoke soothing words, but Erica couldn’t be calmed. She told her mother what had happened. That Missy had been taken.
Her mother’s face twisted in anger and fear until Erica didn’t even recognize her. The same hands that had comforted Erica now shook her.
“Why didn’t you listen? Look what you’ve done! I told you not to do this. I told you never to come out into the woods, especially at night.”
“I’m sorry, Momma. I’m sorry. I should have listened. It’s all my fault that Missy was taken.”
Or was it?
Mom had changed their names. Moved them far away. And now Erin was learning there could be much more to that story.
A noise drew her attention. Mom was home.
Her limbs trembled. Erin hoped she was wrong, but her mother looked a lot like the missing woman in the article. And if she was that woman, then Erin didn’t know her mother at all because ... because Mom couldn’t be that person who’d gone missing. She couldn’t be the missing daughter of a mob boss!
Nausea ripped through her insides.
While Erin wanted to demand answers, she was in no way ready to talk to Mom. She paced the attic, wiped her face. How could she talk to her mother when she herself was in turmoil? Plus, questioning Mom could send her over the edge again.
God, I need your help like never before. I’m completely out of my depth here. I don’t know who my mother is. I don’t know who I am.
Help!
She needed to persuade Mom to go to the ranch, and now ... this. She closed the boxes and calmed her panic. Her breaths.
She could do this. I have to do this. After persuading Mom to come with her to the ranch, where they would be safe, she could ask her about her past and the articles Dwayne had found—clearly he’d wanted to know more about the woman he’d married. But Erin had to wait. If she brought it up now, Mom could be inconsolable.
Palms sweating, she climbed down from the attic. “Mom?”
A door slammed in Mom’s room. Erin closed the attic and once again calmed her fear and panic.
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil...
Erin mentally recited the verse to herself over and over to help with the panic, and in this case, she had every reason to feel terrified. No way would she be able to keep the questions firing in her head to herself.
Erin opened the closed door and entered her mother’s bedroom just as Mom backed out of the closet holding a shotgun.
Erin’s heart pounded. Her worst fears had come to consume them both.
“Mom! What are you doing?” Erin had to de-escalate the crisis enough to call the police. She remained calm even as tears welled in her eyes. At this moment, she didn’t care about the past. She only cared about saving her mother. Keeping her alive. “Just put the gun down, please, I beg you.” Erin slowly reached for the weapon.
“Get down!” Mom shouted, her expression fierce, determined. “Get out of the way.”