Chapter 12

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My mom was missing. When I landed in Canada, I watched Alistair out of the corner of my eye, hoping he would pull out his cell phone, get an update, and tell me that she had been found or that this was some shitty test he and Jasper thought of. It didn't happen. Alistair just wrapped an arm around my shoulders and assured me that everything would be alright before letting me find my Camry, my luggage dragging behind me. I wondered how many people had told him everything would be alright when Jasper disappeared. I bet he hadn't believed a single one of them either.

I checked my phone when I started my car. Nothing.

I checked my phone when I picked up Inkwell from the pet hotel. Nothing.

I checked my phone when I got to my apartment. Nothing.

I laid awake in my bed, waiting for it to go off. The soft purr of Inkwell as he slept was my only company until the screen of my phone lit up. I jerked the blankets off me so quickly that Inky let out a mew of protest but caught himself instead of tumbling to the floor. It must've been my mom. It must've been someone calling to tell me that she was alive, that they found her and there was nothing to worry about.

But Dexter's name stared up at me from the screen.

I think a normal person would have felt disappointment, would have come down in a brutal crash from the high that hope provided. Maybe they would have answered and sobbed to their best friend.

But I just stared at my cell phone until the screen went black again, a little voicemail icon in the corner.

My world was not one of race cars and career changes. My life didn't involve tear down slopes on a mountain bike in the summer then on skis in the winter. I didn't drive a work van that drew the eye for all the wrong reasons. My purpose on this planet was to fulfill my family's legacy. And that came with gritting my teeth, hunching over text books, studying lifestyles and cultures until my mind felt like mush.

And now that my mother was gone, the pressure was worse.

I had seen the photos of my mother's coworker and thousands before him. Nails pulled from their nailbeds, faces mutilated with scars, bodies so crippled and damaged that they would never walk again. Eyes with no spirit behind them. As much as I wanted to stay positive, there was no room for tender hearts in this line of work. The reality was that the next time I would see my mother would be in the morgue, identifying her.

I wanted to bury my face in my hands and sob. I wanted to break down like I had never broken down before and scream and thrash and curse the world for ever allowing me to be born.

But people died in this industry all the time. My mother was good. But perhaps not good enough.

I left my bedroom, my heart aching emptily in my chest, my mind feeling numb. I needed to get my legs under me. Mom had been an amazing support system in her own way. She allowed to go to school without spending a single dime of my own. She was the reason I had a reliable car and a decent apartment, that Inkwell had cat food and I could order takeout whenever I felt like it.

I didn't have her right now.

And there was a chance I would never have her version of love ever again.

I sat at my dining room table and turned on my laptop. I typed in a few select words into the search bar of my email and when I found the correct chain, I began sending out my lengthy resume. I was going to buckle down. I was going to send my resume in for every single assignment that popped up, whether I was massively overqualified or underqualified. I didn't care.

I was going to grind even harder through school. I needed top grades in all of my classes. I needed to prove that I was the best. Anything for extra credit or additional marks was no longer optional. As I pulled up my course load, I grabbed my personal calendar off the fridge and began searching for additional training and classes.

Day by day, I filled my time. Yoga in Monday after my astrophysics and psychology class. Rock climbing and kick boxing, golf lessons and time with a barrel racing coach, samba and foxtrot session back-to-back. Alistair was right. This job needed someone who could blend into every crowd, someone who could chat up farmers at rodeos in the wee hours of the morning and clink champagne classes with yacht owners in the evening.

Jasper had said that I was something close to an alligator. I decided that I was going to paint myself as a chameleon instead.

My mom needed me. she was out there somewhere. I needed to be on the team that brought her in, one way or another.

This was what I was meant for.

I knew that morning had come when I heard my alarm go off in my bedroom. I pulled myself away from my laptop for the first time in hours. As I shut it off, I saw six missed calls for Dexter and three new voicemails.

I deleted them all.


No more distractions.

~~~Question of the Day~~~

What is one thing that will end a relationship for you?

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