Page 130 of From Nowhere

Clank.

My phone slips out of my hand.

I still don’t move.

“Ozzy, you need to tell us what happened,” Tia huffs.

“Stay in the living room with Lola,” Amos says.

“I want to know what—”

“For God’s sake, woman!” Amos snaps. And he never snaps. “For once in your stubborn life, do what I asked you to do.”

She stands her ground for a few seconds before exiting the kitchen.

All this talking, yelling, and questioning. For what?

My wife is dead.

My father is dead.

My daughter can’t get into a car.

My ex-mother-in-law hates me.

And Maren and her plane are who knows where in Canada—shattered into a million blazing pieces of rubble?

I no longer believe there is a purpose to life.

Life is a joke. A cruel, fucking joke.

I blink when Amos touches my leg, squatting before me and guiding my feet into my work boots. As he stands, my gaze locks with his.

I’ve never hated him. He’s always tried to see things through my eyes, even if doing so has been challenging with a wife who refuses to walk a single step in anyone else’s shoes.

“Son, did something happen to Maren?”

I stare at him for long seconds, letting his words bounce and echo in my head. When the real possibility of never seeing someone again cuts through the surface of denial, it feels like an out-of-body experience. I felt it with Brynn and my father. It’s as if we’re forced to choose to stay or go.

I haven’t loved Maren for long. My brain knows that. It’s good at math and reason. But my heart doesn’t have filters. It doesn’t do equations. It doesn’t acknowledge the existence of time. The heart is unreasonable and completely illogical.

Childlike. Innocent, like Lola.

“Yes,” I whisper. And it’s no longer an echo. I’m acknowledging my willingness to go on no matter where Maren is on this earth or the world beyond this life.

“Her plane?” Amos asks.

Brynn was a daddy’s girl. Maybe it’s because she was too much like her mom and they butted heads. Amos was protective like a good father, but he always awaited her with open arms—a safe haven.

“Yes,” I whisper, averting my gaze to the glass he’s swept into a pile by the fridge. “Search and rescue are looking for her now. That’s all I know.”

“You can’t tell Lola.”

I return my attention to him and swallow hard with a slow nod. “I know.”

“One of the pilots who works for Cielo had trouble with a mission.” Amos grabs my shoulders to ensure I’m listening. “You don’t know the details yet. But you’re concerned about them. And when your friend told you, you took a step backward and accidentally tripped. She will assume that you would tell her if it were Maren. Okay?”

“I can’t lie.” I shake my head.

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