Page 176 of The Secret We Keep
“By helping her through this. By acknowledging her condition and not forcing her to live in the world you and I live in. If that makes any sense.”
He nods, swallowing harshly, trying to hold back his emotions. “Will you be here with her? With us?”
I know he’s asking out of fear. “Every day.” I turn to walk away but look back at him. “She’s got us. All we can do is make sure we’re there for her when she needs us.” Then I go, taking steadying breaths as I gather my composure, ready to watch a movie as though everything is fine and fucking dandy when it’s not.
No. I need to keep trying. Need to keep in the moment of attempting to make her see the truth.
Quickly taking the stairs, a cold draft hits me when I make it to the bottom. I peer my head around the kitchen doorway, seeing two mugs left on the side. Making my way over, I find the mugs filled with water, the tea bags stewed for longer than I know Morgan likes.
I walk into the lounge finding Bill and Julie sitting on the sofas. “Jerry’s on his way down.” I look around the room for any signs of Morgan. “Where is she?”
Julie’s head picks up. She looks at me bewildered. “I thought she was with you?”
“She asked me to go fetch Jerry while she was making the teas.”
Bill’s out of his seat, dashing through to the cold kitchen. He spots the unmade drinks, then looks towards the open door which I hadn’t realised before. “Morgan?” He quickly steps outside, shouting her name again. “Morgan!”
My fingers grip the wooden doorframe. My heart beating wildly in my chest.
“Where is she?” Julie asks, her voice terrified.
My feet are suddenly moving. “I’ll check upstairs.” I take the stairs two at a time back to her room, flinging open the door when I get there. “Morgan?” The room’s empty. “Curly fries?” I hotfoot it to her ensuite. Also empty.
“Paddy?”
I spin around to find Jerry.
“What’s wrong?”
“Where is she?”
His eyes sink. His shoulders drop. “I’ll check up here.”
Running past him as he checks the other rooms, sweat breaks out on the back of my neck. “She’s not in her room,” I holler, making it back into the kitchen and pulling out my phone.
No messages.
No missed calls.
“Where is she?” Julie cries, standing motionless.
Bill hurries into the room. “Call the police. She’s not in the house.”
“They’ll take too long,” I reply, knowing that no first responders or officers will be close by. “I’ll take my car. We can look for her.”
Bill dumps his feet into his boots as I search my pockets for my keys. Coming up empty, I run through the house, remembering I chucked them on the side when I brought her home.
Tipping out the small dish, my key isn’t there. Tears sting my eyes like drops of acid.
No.
I run back to the kitchen. “My keys are gone.” My voice cracks in pain. My heart leaps to my throat. My eyes scan the counters, but I know they won’t be there.
Bill stares back at me, unmoving. “Paddy.”
Emotion wracks through me. “My car.” My feet feel like blocks of lead as I move out the door to the front of the house, not fully registering what’s going on.
Please, God. No.
