Page 39 of The Persistence of Thornes
“I hope you gave your interior designer a massive tip. This room is gorgeous.”
He huffs good-naturedly. “Just check for the folder, Halle.”
Right. Folder.
I find it right away—resting on the dresser, like he said it would be—then tuck it under my arm and pad back out into the hall. “Do you need me to scan it and email it to you?”
“That would be great. Thanks.”
“No problem. Call me if you need anything else.”
I hang up and quickly scan the contents of the folder. I’m in the process of uploading them when my phone rings again.
“Hey,” I answer. “Uploading the files now. I’ll email them in just a minute.”
“Uh…” The voice on the other end of the line is decidedly not Caleb’s. “Halle, we have a problem.”
My brother’s tone instantly sends me into fight-or-flight mode. “Quinn, what is it?” Gripping the phone tighter, I book it out of the office and fly down the stairs.
“We were playing our game, and we kept hearing this sound. At first we didn’t think anything of it. But then…”
“But then what?” I snap, my fingers fumbling with the dead bolt on the front door. It takes five tries to get the door unlocked because my hand won’t stop shaking. “Are you okay?”
That’s my biggest worry. That they’re hurt. Is someone trying to break in? I can’t imagine who. Our mom is still in prison, but there’s always their dad.
“Yeah, we’re okay, it’s just… the house is kind of… wet.”
Wet. I pull up short at the top of the porch steps. That wasn’t what I was expecting him to say.
“What do you mean wet?”
“The floor’s wet. Likereallywet.”
My stomach sinks. No, no, no,no. This can’t be happening. I mumble nonsense, then disconnect the call and shove my phone into my pocket.
With a harsh inhale, I turn around and go back for the shoes I left just inside the door. Then I scurry across the yard far less delicately than before. The moment I enter the house, I step into a puddle.
“Where’s it coming from?” I shriek at my brothers, who are standing, stunned, in front of the couch.
“No idea.” Casen shrugs. “We got up, and the floor is wet.”
A small cry climbs its way out of my throat as I dart to the kitchen. The panic already coursing through me has now been joined by annoyance. Why didn’t they go lookingwhen they first heard the noise? This is not a mess that can just be wiped away. This is full-on damage.
As thought after thought races through me, I spin in a circle, trying to figure out where to look first.
“Kitchen,” I mutter, pulling myself to a stop.
I throw open the cabinet beneath the sink, but it’s dry.
“Can you guys help me look?” I plead over my shoulder. Slamming the cabinet door, I straighten and head for the laundry room next.
Casen and Quinn are already there, standing side by side, watching water flow from behind the washer. Dammit. I whimper at the thought of what this month’s bill will look like.
“I have to get the main water valve turned off.” Without hesitation, I turn and dart to the back door. When I don’t find it there, I run around the front of the house, suddenly thankful for the broken fence panels.
I don’t find it there either there.
“Everything okay?”
