Page 100 of Holding on to Chaos
“Phoebe’s their real mom now,” Evan decided.
“Exactly.”
“But how much does blood have a say in who you are?” he asked.
Donovan blew out a breath and glanced in Beckett’s direction. His friend put his hands up in an “all yours” gesture.
“Well, from what I can tell, everyone’s got blood and choices. You can come from someone who isn’t a good person, but I think it’s your choices that determine who you turn out to be.”
“Mom and Aunt Eva and Aunt Emma are good people,” Evan said.
“Yes, they are.”
“And just because my dad’s kind of a flake doesn’t mean I’m going to turn into him, right?”
“Right. You can still go out and be a lawyer like Beckett. Although, with your work here today, I think you should consider law enforcement.”
Evan grinned. “Chicks dig guys in uniform. That’s what Oceana tells me.”
Donovan cracked a smile. “Again, in my experience, that does seem to be the case.”
“I’ll consider it,” Evan said wisely.
“Did you happen to get a look at the suspect’s car?” Donovan asked.
Evan snorted. “I’m not an amateur.” He pointed at the phone in Donovan’s hand.
Donovan scrolled again and found a picture of an ancient blue Ford Escort and a close up of its license plate. He grinned and ruffled Evan’s hair. “You did good. You kept your head and gathered evidence that’s going to help us catch her.”
“Is Aunt Eva going to be okay? I mean, does she get she’s not going to turn into her mom?”
“I think so,” Donovan said. He hoped so.
“You’ll take care of her? Make her feel better?”
“I will,” Donovan vowed. “But first I gotta yell at her a little bit for not telling us about all this.”
Evan nodded. “It’s only fair. Just maybe don’t yell too loud. Or do it when you’re holding her hand or something so she knows that you still like her even though you’re mad.”
“You’re a smart kid, Evan.”
“Yeah. I’m pretty awesome. Beckett, can I have some more hot chocolate? Maybe pizza, too? Aunt Eva spilled my cereal, and I’m getting real hungry.”
“You can have ten pizzas, Ev,” Beckett promised.
Donovan headed out the door to give them some time, but Beckett caught him.
“We’re gonna need to talk,” Beckett reminded him. “Settle things.”
Donovan gave him a cool look. “I think we might need to do more than talking.”
“You let me know where and when.”
“Go get your kid some pizza,” Donovan said and strode down the hallway to the kitchen.
He found Layla, Gia, and Emma in the backyard.
“Where’s Eva?” he demanded. The panic from earlier at her strangled voice begging for help resurfaced.
