Page 129 of Finders Keepers

Gavin and I rush to the front door, and we meet her on the front porch. Her silver hair is disheveled, like she’s been running her fingers through it repeatedly, and her cardigan is slightly askew.

“I’ve called everyone, honey. And I mean everyone.” Her voice carries that stern determination. “The ladies from church, my bridge club, all the shop owners downtown, Mary Beth, Molly, even that ornery old Henry. They’re all keeping their eyes peeled for our Sophie.”

My heart swells at her use of “our,” the simple word carrying so much meaning. In the short time we’ve been here, this community has embraced us like family, making this small town feel more like home than anywhere else ever has.

“Have you heard anything from Matt?” She asks, patting down her hair, trying to tame it. “Any calls or messages?”

And as if on cue, my phone dings with an incoming text message. My stomach drops as I pull it from my pocket. The number isn’t saved in my contacts, but I recognize the Oklahoma area code immediately.

Matt.

My hands shake so badly I almost drop the phone. I feel the blood drain from my face as I read his message:

“You don’t deserve our daughter.”

My knees go weak, and Gavin and Ms. Lucy are right behind me. I feel them both move closer, their presence both comforting and suffocating as more messages start coming through in rapid succession.

“You think you could just disappear and that I wouldn’t find you!?”

“You’re nothing but a selfish bitch!!!”

“You’ll never see her again!”

The words blur together as panic claws at my chest, making it hard to breathe.

“Call him,” Ms. Lucy says firmly, her southern accent thick with emotion.

“What?” I look into her determined eyes; they’re beginning to gloss over with unshed tears.

“Call that piece of shit right now.” She points down at my phone.

I tap his number and press the speaker button and the phone rings once, twice, three times. Each ring feels like an eternity, the sound echoing in the suddenly too-quiet space.

“What do you want?” His voice is cold, hostile, so different from the man I married years ago.

My throat constricts as I hear his voice, my body automatically tensing like it always does. Years of conditioning kicks in, and I find myself shifting into that familiar pattern. The one where I make myself small, where I try to smooth things over.

“Matt, please.” My voice comes out soft, placating. “Where’s Sophie? I just need to know she’s safe.”

“Safe?” He barks out a laugh that sends chills down my spine. “She’s safer with me than she ever was with you. Running around, living God knows where, with God knows who.”

I catch Gavin’s movement from the corner of my eye, see the way his jaw clenches, but I can’t focus on that now. I have to handle this the way I always have. Carefully, delicately, like defusing a bomb.

“You’re right.” The words taste like ash in my mouth, but I force them out anyway. “I shouldn’t have left like that. I was scared and confused, and I made a mistake. Please, can we just talk about this?”

“Now you want to talk?” His voice rises, and I flinch instinctively. “After you took my daughter and disappeared? After you turned her against me? After you sent me those fucking papers?”

“I never-” I stop myself, taking a shaky breath. “I mean, you’re right. I should have handled things differently. Please, Matt, just come back so we can talk this out. Face to face.”

Ms. Lucy’s hand finds mine, squeezing gently, and I pull away instinctively but then I realize I’m trembling.

“Oh, now you want me to come back?” His voice drips with venom. “After you’ve probably been whoring around with-”

“That’s enough.” Gavin’s voice cuts through the air like a knife, firm and authoritative. My heart stops.

No, no, no.

“Who the hell is that?” Matt’s voice drops dangerously low. “Who’s there with you, Bailey?”

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