Page 88 of Loving Violet
As we walk to the restrooms we pass by our found family. They start congratulating Adrian.
I look toward Josy and ask, “Did Violet come back from the restroom?”
“No. That’s weird,” Josy answers me.
“Stay here with our stuff. Adrian and I will look for her really fast.” Josy nods and Adrian and I walk away from them.
We weave through the crowd, making our way to the restroom area. Everyone is congratulating Adrian on his goal and he is happy with all the extra attention.
I call out Violet's name, but there’s no response. A growing unease settles in my chest. I see Mrs. Baker nearby, chatting with another parent.
“Mrs. Baker!” I call, hurrying over to her with Adrian in tow. “Could you check the ladies' room for Violet? She went in there a while ago and hasn’t come back.”
“Of course, Austin,” Mrs. Baker says, her face turning serious. She heads into the restroom while I wait anxiously outside with Adrian.
It only takes Mrs. Baker a few seconds to return shaking her head.
“She’s not in there, Austin.”
Panic starts to rise within me. I pull out my phone and dial Violet’s number, my hands trembling slightly. The phone rings and rings, but she doesn’t pick up.
“Go to Aunt Josy and the guys, and tell them to come this way,” I say to Adrian and he runs to where they are standing and talking. I don’t know what Adrian says but the guys grab the chairs and our stuff and walk fast toward me.
“Where is she?” Josy asks, her voice tinged with worry.
“I don’t know,” I say, trying to keep my voice calm. “But we’re going to find her.”
“Did you call the police?” Noah asks.
“I’m about to,” I say as I dial Officer Miller’s number next, my heart racing. “Miller, it’s Austin. Violet’s missing. She went to the restroom during the soccer game at the middle school and never came back. I’ve called her, but she’s not answering.”
“Calm down, Austin,” Miller says, his voice steady. “Stay where you are. I’m on my way. We’ll find her.”
As I end the call, I look around frantically, searching the crowd for any sign of Violet.
My mind races with worst-case scenarios, but I force myself to stay focused. I can’t let fear take over.
“We’re going to find her, Adrian,” I say, trying to reassure both him and myself. “I promise.”
We stay near the restroom, eyes scanning the area. Minutes feel like hours as we wait for Officer Miller, each second killing me with anxiety. I hold Adrian close, hoping for any sign of Violet, praying that she’s safe.
Chapter 29
Violet
I have been holdingmy need to pee since the moment the second half of the game started. Even with only five minutes left on the clock, I can't hold it any longer.
I walk as fast as I can to the restroom because I don't want to miss the end of the game. Hopefully, Adrian or one of his teammates can make a goal and win this game. Adrian needs this. He was sad that Taylor couldn’t make it today, but I promised that I would record it and send the pictures to his dad.
I reach the restroom and do my business quickly. I wash and dry my hands, eager to get back. As I open the door, the noise from the game fills the air—cheers, shouts, and the sounds of parents urging their teams on. I start to walk faster, wanting to see how the game ends.
Suddenly, the atmosphere changes. The hair on the back of my neck prickles, a cold sensation creeping down my spine. I pause mid-step, glancing around instinctively. The noise of the game seems muted now, distant, like I’m hearing it through water.
Before I can process the unease building in my chest, a sharp, excruciating pain explodes at the back of my head. It’s as if a lightning bolt has struck me, sending shockwaves of agony through my skull. The world tilts violently, and I stumble forward, my knees buckling beneath me.
I crash face-first into the hard, uneven ground. The coarse dirt scrapes against my skin, and the impact sends another jolt of pain through my body. My arms feel like lead, unresponsive as I try to push myself up. A groan bubbles in my throat, but it barely escapes as a whisper.
Panic sets in. What just happened? I try to turn my head, desperate to see who or what hit me, but my body won’t cooperate. My vision blurs, the edges darkening as if someone is dimming the lights around me.
