I was liquid deficient from a day’s worth of tears, but the second I saw my father, I broke.
I opened my arms, and he bent to scoop me into his embrace. He picked me up like I was a child again, cradling me tight as I buried my face into his neck.
I cried for Della and Jacob.
I cried for the horses she’d rescued and the family she’d left behind.
I cried for all of it.
And Dad didn’t let me go, murmuring sweet things, stroking my hair with tenderness, holding my pieces together while I came undone.
By the time, I pulled away to blow my nose, his grey shirt was soaked and his face tired. The aura of airplane and travel hung over him, making him stoop under fatigue.
“What about work?” I asked softly.
He was always so reliable. The directors loved him for his commitment to a project. His trustworthiness to production timelines.
He shrugged. “Not important.”
“But—”
“Stop.” He smiled gently. “I’m here for you. And for Della. I’m so sorry, Little Lace.”
I bit my lip, stemming more tears. “It still doesn’t seem real.”
“Are you okay?”
I shook my head.
“That’s understandable. You had a great bond with her.”
“I loved her.” My eyes narrowed, daring him to argue.
He nodded. “I can see that. And Jacob? How is he?”
“He’s vanished.” I cursed as yet more water welled in my eyes.
When would it end?
How much more would I cry?
“Oh.” Dad let me go, moving toward the edge of the deck and sitting wearily on the steps. “I guess we’ll have to find him then, won’t we?”
I gasped. “You…you’d do that? You’d go looking for him?”
He frowned. “Of course, I would. His mother just died. It’s not good for him to be alone.”
How lucky was I to have a father like him?
Rushing over, I threw myself at him. “Thank you. I’ve been so worried about him. Can we go now?”
Stroking my hair, he pulled away. “How about we have a shower and something to eat, and then we’ll go find him.”
Another delay, but a sensible one.
“Okay.”
I could wait a little longer.
We’d find Jacob.
I’d tell him I was in love with him.
I’d care for him, protect him.
Just like Della would’ve wanted me to.
CHAPTER FORTY
Jacob
* * * * * *
I WATCHED THEM from the treeline.
I hugged the hunger in my belly and wiped at the dirt on my cheek as they invaded my forest.
My parents’ forest.
The cemetery.
I knew they’d come.
I didn’t know when, but I knew it would end here.
Where I’d stood as a ten-year-old and said goodbye to the ashes of a man I missed more than anything. That day, Mom had hugged me and told me it wasn’t him in that urn—that he was free and all around us.
Had she lied?
I supposed she was about to find out for herself.
The procession was small and intimate.
Family and close friends only.
At the back of the crowd walked Hope with her father.
He had no right to be here.
Thanks to him, I had my dad’s cough repeating in my head in two different styles. I’d watched him die twice. And I’d had to deal with his daughter who disturbed and hurt me in the strangest, horrifying way.
We hadn’t spoken since that god-awful kiss.
If I had my way, we’d never speak again.
Hope’s eyes were never still, searching the fields, the shadows, the trees.
Looking for me.
I should feel guilty for running off without any explanation. I should stride from the woods and meet my family with an apology.
But when Mom died, most of me died with her.
I couldn’t pretend I was okay or soothe the grief of others.
I was done with the living.
For two days, I’d fended for myself in the barest way possible. I still wore the clothes stained with my mother’s blood. I’d stayed alive with a few drinks from the river and a handful of local berries, but that was all I’d foraged for. I couldn’t hunt because I couldn’t stand the thought of more blood and bone. I couldn’t watch another life be taken.
My hands shook as humanity came closer.
I wanted to bare my teeth and run.
Soon.
Soon, I would disappear for good.
Once this funeral was over…I would exist no more.
Their hushed voices met me, weaving around tree trunks and whispering in the leaves. Grandpa John and Aunt Cassie led the sad procession, a black lacquered urn wrapped with a blue ribbon in Aunt Cassie’s arms.
My heart twisted into knots.
But no tears fell.
I hadn’t cried since.
I didn’t know if I ever could again.
Something had locked inside me. Painful and thick, the barrier fortified with barbwire, imprisoning me in solitary.
I couldn’t process what’d happened.
I couldn’t accept.
All I knew was…nothing was worth this type of pain.
Nothing.
“How can we do this without him?” Aunt Cassie asked Grandpa John as they arrived in the clearing where the soft breeze was never still.
“He’ll come. I know he will.” Grandpa squeezed her shoulder, his gaze landing on the urn. “He has to.”