The Forgotten Ones

Chapter 7

The hardware store was slow that night, and it was even harder to get through the hours than usual as I was constantly fighting back tears.When I could finally close up, I went straight home. I hadn't heard from Liam yet and it was nearly seven, and between worrying about my mother and replaying my conversation with Ethan, I was completely exhausted and beyond emotionally drained.

Thankfully, everything was quiet when I got home. I walked into the living room to find Gram sitting on the couch folding laundry.

"Just the person I was thinking of," Gram said as I dropped my purse on the sideboard.

"Hi, Gram. Where is everyone?"

"Your mom is upstairs lying down. Pop is down in the cellar, I think."

I sat down in the recliner and leaned my head back for a minute.

"Are you feeling okay, honey? You look a little pale."

I yawned and settled further into the chair, opening one eye to look at her. "Just a little tired, that's all."

Gram stood and hauled the laundry basket up to her hip. "There are leftovers in the fridge, I'm just going to put this laundry away,and I'll heat something up for you."

"I can manage," I said, stretching one more time before I stood.

I took the leftover pasta out and heated a bowl in the microwave. As I waited for it to cook, I sliced a piece of fresh Italian bread.

I wanted to be able to tell Gram everything, to share the weight of all I now knew with someone. But there was no way I could even tell Gram and Pop about who Liam was, let alone all the insane-sounding things he'd told me about his life. Plus, I hadn't had a chance to come to terms with his arrival yet myself, as my father.

I took a deep breath and watched the microwave. Now that my mother was in potential danger, I needed to take care of this myself. There could be no more distractions. But the image of Ethan staring into my eyes, his expression cold and angry, was burnt into my memory. He'd never been angry with me before. But—I reminded myself—angry was better than hopeful.

Once again, I was left waiting to hear from Liam. The hope I'd let myself feel since he'd shown up was being replaced by dread. Liam had said Breanh was dangerous. But would Breanh even know where we were if Liam hadn't shown up here? Now he may as well hand-deliver my mother right to the bad guy.

The ceiling creaked loudly, and I looked up, wondering what Gram was doing up there. It sounded like she was scurrying in and out of the bedrooms. A second later, she bustled down the stairs. Her face was flushed, and strands of white hair escaped from her bun.

The bread knife slipped from my fingers as she approached me, landing with a clatter on the cutting board.

Mom. Something was wrong.

"Gram?"

She blinked at me before hurrying over to the living room window. "Your mother isn't in her bedroom," she said as she turned away from the window.

"Tom,"she called as she walked toward the cellar stairs and opened the door. "Tom, have you seen Beth?"

"Coming,Jane," I heard Pop holler from the bottom of the stairs. "What is it, dear?"

"I can't find Elizabeth. She isn't down there with you, is she?"

"No,"Pop said, wiping sawdust off his brow.

"Maybe she wandered out into the backyard again," I said. Before anyone could respond, I threw open the screen slider and hurried outside. Iran around the entire house shouting her name, but there was no sign of her.