I toss and turn trying to fall asleep, my nerves on edge as I think about Adrian, Candace, Lilly, and now Anthony, too. I had called and texted several times, but gotten no response. I even strongly considered going over there and just driving by for peace of mind, but my desire to follow orders and not let Anthony down had gotten the best of me. 

Around two in the morning, just as I’m beginning to slip away into a light and fitful sleep, my phone rings. I swipe to answer the unfamiliar number, my heart pounding with fearful anticipation. 

“I’ve been arrested.”

It’s Anthony. His voice carries a tone of defeat, lacking in emotion and substance. 

“Why?!” 

“Don’t worry about me. They will release me soon. They have to.”

He’s hung up before I can utter another word. 

Not three minutes later, I hear a knocking. I quickly slip out of bed to answer it. A female officer carrying two sleeping children stands at the door; she has Lilly over one shoulder and Adrian over the other. I turn the light on and signal for her to come inside, watching as she sets them down one-by-one on the sofa. I take a blanket from the other couch and place it over them both gently. They are completely zonked, evidenced by the fact that neither of them stirred one bit during the transfer. 

“Thank you,” I say, and she whispers a faint good night before exiting.

I’m dreaming when Anthony returns. My mind caught between two worlds, with only one of them, the true nightmare. I’m sprawled out on the couch, my sleepy eyes tugging open to meet Anthony’s gaze, his eyes speaking before his mouth can. I sense something is very wrong. 

“Candace is missing.”

“What?!” A rush of adrenaline pulls me from the hazy dream world.

He ushers me toward the bedroom, so as not to wake the kids. “Someone broke into the house and kidnapped her, or at least that’s what it looks like.”

“You’re kidding me, right?” This story feels far too surreal, like something out of a typical movie plot.

“I wish I were kidding, Laura. We are lucky the kids were unharmed.” He pauses for a moment. “There is one thing though. Adrian mentioned something about a “bad guy” showing up to the house and taking her with him. Any idea who this “bad guy” might be?”

I rack my brain for several seconds trying to come up with a logical response to his question, however, I cannot find one. Who could possibly be the bad guy in this equation, and what the hell did he want with Candace?!

“Did the police suspect you had done something?” I ask.

“Unfortunately, they did.” Anthony runs his fingers through his hair nervously. “They asked me some questions and filed a missing person’s report, but they’re not convinced she was kidnapped.”

“That’s ridiculous!” I scoff, “It’s obvious she was kidnapped!”

“I know it.” Anthony pulls me close for a hug, my chin resting sleepily on his shoulder. We both let out a nervous sigh at the same time. I feel the adrenaline finally begin to subside a little.

“I really hope she’s okay.” 

“There’s another thing I need to mention…”

I look up at Anthony with a look of intrigue. 

“There was, what appeared to be a blood stain across the front door. The police took pictures of it and sent some to the lab for testing.”

I feel my eyes widening as I recall the moment I saw what looked to be blood smeared across the front door when I paid a visit to Candace just a few evenings prior. 

Anthony can sense my shock and realization. His hands place firmly on my shoulders. “What is it? What do you know?!”

I stand there stupidly staring off into the abyss. I don’t feel I know anything worth sharing. “I’m sorry, Anthony. I just remember seeing the blood on the door a few days ago. I don’t know where it came from.”

His head shakes with confusion and disbelief. “Wait, you saw blood, and you said nothing?!”

Crap… Why didn’t I mention anything?

“I got distracted, completely forgot about it…” I search frantically for excuses. “Candace made a pie!”

“A pie?!” Anthony releases a sarcastic, irritated laugh. “She made a fucking pie?!”

I can sense he is very angry now. Clearly the auxiliary excuse was ridiculous. I pull away, and the look he gives me is that of complete disgust. I immediately feel belittled and ashamed, as though I have done something monumentally sinful by not sharing this seemingly minor detail. In my mind, this supposed blood stain could have been jam from Adrian’s toast, for all I knew. He turns and heads for the sofa, the one not occupied by sleeping children, and slumps down, his shoes still attached to his feet.

I glance over at him, waiting for him to say something, but it is quite obvious he wants me to leave him alone. I lock myself inside the bedroom and crawl into bed, feeling absolutely awful and absolutely exhausted, my wrist throbbing aggressively once again, as if to let me know how much I screwed up.

The next morning couldn’t come any sooner. I scarcely slept, and my head feels ready to explode. At about seven o’clock I venture to the kitchen and make myself some coffee as quietly as possible, so as not to wake Anthony and the sleeping kiddos. The symphony of snores from he and Adrian rage at full blast.

I ponder making some breakfast; some scrambled eggs with toast sounds easy enough. I begin to prepare the food, trying my best to be mindful of any noise I create. I haven’t checked my phone yet, so I retrieve it from the bedroom and check for missed calls…nothing. I walk over to Anthony’s phone and press on the home screen, hoping to see a missed call from Candace or the police station….again, nothing.

I return to the stove to slide the eggs off of the pan and onto a plate, then PING, I receive a text from a blocked number.

I warned you to stay away.

I stop dead in my tracks. Anthony is stirring awake at this point.

“What time is it?” he asks, while yawning loudly.

“About 7:15,” I replied.

“Shit!” He jolts up and off the sofa in a fit of worry, making an immediate beeline toward the front door. 

I try to stop him. “Anthony, I made break—“

But he’s gone, just like that.

Then I realize that he’s still wearing the same outfit he borrowed from me yesterday. 

I let out a very long and anxious sigh. 

Oh boy…

The kids are still sound asleep.

My thoughts return to the ominous text message. Suddenly, I feel weak and dizzy with fear. I can’t function. I make my way to the sofa and have a seat where Anthony was sleeping, still warm from his body heat, and simply try to breathe.

Who could this person be? 

Could it be the same person who has Candace?

Do they know I was with Anthony last night? 

I should probably let the police know about the note and the text…the note!

I suddenly remember to go look for it in my clothes hamper. As I rummage around, unable to find it, I hear, “Mom?” 

I return to the living room, my brain unable to settle. Adrian has woken, bleary-eyed and frazzled. He looks around the room, as if trying to figure out where he is. I look at Lilly, still curled up in a fetal position, her lips pressed open against the cushion, drool pooling under her mouth. I press my finger to my lips to signal for him to be quiet.

“I made you some breakfast,” I whisper, before standing up to retrieve the cold eggs and buttered toast, placing them on the table for him. 

He looks at the food, and his expression turns sour. “I’m not hungry.”

“Adrian, I know you’ve been through something scary. Do you want to talk to me about what happened last night?”

He studies me for a moment, then shakes his head. “Maybe after I eat.”

“Oh.” I’m all too familiar with Adrian’s uncanny ability to change his mind rather abruptly, especially when faced with uncomfortable circumstances. I suppose this is a trait he inherited from his father.

My heart trembles. I should be at work in about fifteen minutes. There’s no way on Earth I can make it in today.

I call Everly, my coworker and emergency substitute teacher — my saving grace, in other words, to let her know there’s been an emergency, and I won’t be able to make it in. 

“I’ve got you covered,” she says confidently.

God bless her, seriously.

“Thanks a million! I’ll explain everything to you later,” I say before hanging up and realizing that I’ve just woken Lilly. She sits up and immediately begins to sob uncontrollably when she realizes she is not in her crib.

I have a feeling this will be a rather interesting day. What am I to tell her that she could possibly understand? That her mother has taken a little vacation and will be right back? That she just went to the store…for a few days, or a few weeks? 

I pick her up and squeeze her little body tightly, her tears soaking my right shoulder. She settles finally when I rub her back. “Shhh…it’s okay.”

“Mama?” The dreaded words escape her pouty lips. She spins around, her eyes darting side to side, searching the room for Candace.

“Mama will be right back,” I lied. “It’s okay, sweetie.”

She begins to cry again.

“There’s Adrian!” I distract her, and it works for the time being. Her lips curl into a sweet smile, as she registers her brother sitting there at the table. I set her down next to him on the adjacent chair, while saying a silent prayer that she won’t fall.

If only I had a highchair for her….

“You want eggs?” I set some in front of her, hoping to distract her with food. I am relieved when she reaches for them and proceeds to cram as much into her mouth as possible.

“Slow down, Lilly!” Adrian giggles, but she continues to stuff the food into her little mouth. 

I realize that her diaper probably needs changing, but I don’t have any on hand. I make the quick decision to get the kids ready and head for Anthony’s house. The last thing I need on my conscience is a wicked case of diaper rash. Is it a bad idea? Most likely. But I can’t help but shake the feeling that I need to see the crime scene for myself, see if I can gauge what happened last night through my own sense and reason.

I tell Adrian to dress and brush his teeth. He complies begrudgingly, and we pile into the car, Lilly still sitting in her soiled diaper on the backseat. The seat belt is wrapped illegally and dangerously across her chin.

“Crap! I can’t do this!” I say out loud. I glance back at the kids in the rear-view mirror. They both look completely stunned.

“Mommy doesn’t have a carseat for Lilly,” I say to Adrian. 

He nods in understanding. “It’s okay Mom, I can hold her.”

I think for a second, then decide to go for it. Although I could call Anthony and have him fetch me her car seat, the thought of interrupting him at work felt very wrong, considering how stressed and eager he was to take off first thing this morning.

“Okay then,” I say nervously, as I drive away feeling incredibly overwhelmed over the entire situation.