Page 114 of Songbird: Black Kite
“That’s enough out of you, young lady,” I said with mock sternness.
“Just give me your phone, old man.”
Handing over my phone, I watched in fascination as Cooper moved her thumbs a million miles an hour, navigating through the process of downloading a new app with impressive finesse.
“I know you and the band have an official account, because I’ve been following you for a year, but based on the dull garbage that gets posted, it’s probably run by an underpaid intern or something.”
I blinked, surprised that she followed the band, but also a little bit flattered, if I was being honest.
“Yeah, I seem to recall being introduced to someone with the title ‘Social Media Manager’ at some point or another, but I can’t say as I’ve ever checked out our accounts or anything. That’s always just been handled for us.”
I sounded like an entitled asshole, but it was true.
“Well, unless you want to have your intern stalk my mom for you, you’re gonna have to get real good at this real fast.”
That didn’t seem likely, but I’d try.
“Okay, so this is your new Finsta account,” Cooper instructed, holding the phone in my direction as she showed me how to navigate the app. “I made you a new email address and stored the password in your notes app in case you forget.” She smiled at me again, like she knew I was gonna forget.
Fuck. I probably was.
“Boomer McGarrett? That’s the name you gave me?” I growled, looking at the name scrawled across the top of the page. The profile picture was a snap that Cooper had somehow taken of the lake, the sun turning the waters liquid gold as it seeped through the trees across from us. It was stunning.
“I thought it fit.” This kid was a riot. “So, I’ve already set you up following me. I’m Callie Arizona.” When I looked at her questioningly, she just shrugged. “What? I likeGrey’s.”
“Noted.”
“And this,” she continued, navigating to another account. “Is my mom.”
Looking down, I held my breath, my eyes trying to take it all in at once. The collage of small images visible on the screen before me were all of Wren, dressed casually, with a guitar on her lap. Some of them looked like they were videos, and a couple were black-and-white shots, all artsy and dramatic.
And each one was more beautiful than the last.
She looked exactly the way I remembered her in my dreams. My heart started to pound at the thought of hearing her play guitar again. Of sitting beside her as she strummed out a gentle melody with a smile on her face. I’d give anything to see her like that, relaxed and at peace, nothing but her and me and the music.
I was still daydreaming, imagining all the killer music we could make together, when my eyes made their way to the name at the top of Wren’s account.
The name she had been using as an alias in the wake of Victoria’s interference in our lives.
Songbird.
Chapter sixty-six
Wren
Present
Turningoffmyengine,I stared up at the front door of the house Hawk was renting in Grand Rapids, my heart in my throat.
Was I crazy for coming here?
Maybe.
Was that enough to make me want to turn around and go home?
Absolutely not.
Earlier, just as I was returning to the house after a finding nothing but dead ends with Jillian and the church, I’d been shocked to see Cooper climbing out of Hawk’s massive SUV. It turned out that if I’d just calmed my ass down for a second and actually thought about it, I would probably have known exactly where to look for my daughter.
