Only if you know (Book 1)

Chapter 8

“What did you do?” Caleb's mother demanded. She was enraged that her son had done something to cause the poor girl to flee.

      “I um— I,” He faltered, struggling to find the right words. He couldn't bring himself to respond to the question. Olivia has been missing because of him for God knows how long. He lowered his gaze and exhaled shakily. “I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he murmured, almost to himself. There was no other choice. He had to tell them everything.

      “Caleb, for the love of God, stop assuming things. I am so disappointed in you. I never thought I’d see the day when you, of all people, would let me down.”

      Her words hit harder than he’d expected. Without another glance, she turned and stormed out of the room.      But his father stayed. He sat beside Caleb on the edge of the bed, his expression calm but heavy with quiet reproach.

      “Son,” he said softly, “not everyone in this world is like your brother. Yes, he made some terrible choices. But even he wasn’t born cruel. He simply lost his way. And maybe, somewhere along the line, we failed him, too.” Then, with a weary sigh, his father rose and followed his wife out.

      Caleb sat there for a moment, staring at the floor, shame burning through him before he made his way downstairs. His mother was pacing the living room, anxiety and anger warring on her face, while his father was on the phone, urgently trying to track Olivia down.

      “I am sorry, Mom and Dad.” Caleb was feeling far guiltier than he had expected.

      “We will talk about this after we find Olivia,” his mother said firmly, not looking at him.

      He hesitated, then asked quietly, “Can I… make a suggestion?”

      “Caleb,” she began sharply, “I think you’ve done enough damage—”

      But his father interrupted her. “Of course. What do you have in mind?”

      “Does Olivia know anyone here? Someone she might’ve gone to? I mean, there has to be a place where she might have run off.” 

      His mother froze mid-step. Her eyes widened, darting toward his father. “Could she?”

      “She definitely could—” his father finished, realization dawning on his face.

      “Can I also come along? I know what I did was wrong, but please forgive me. I want to make this right.” He told them sincerely.

      They exchanged a glance and nodded. Within minutes, they were in the car, speeding through the quiet streets of Rosewood. Caleb’s pulse pounded with dread.

      He didn't know where they were heading, but he did know that he needed to make things right. He certainly went a little too far this time.

      When the car stopped, he looked out and felt a chill of recognition. It was the same old house he’d passed the day before, the one that had always been locked and lifeless. 

      ‘Why here?’ He wondered.

      They hurried to the front door. His father twisted the knob. It was unlocked, so he pushed it open.

      The sight inside made Caleb’s heart stop. Olivia lay sprawled on the floor, motionless. 

      Caleb ran up to her and lifted her gently, cradling her face in trembling hands. Her skin was cold. He gathered her into his lap, panic tearing through him.

      His parents were beside him in seconds, helping him lift her onto the nearby couch. The room was spotless except for the ceiling, which was half-cleaned. Cleaning supplies and a stool lay nearby.

      She must have been trying to clean. Alone.

      Then there was a faint cough.

      Caleb froze. She was alive.

      “Thank God,” his mother whispered, covering her mouth.

      “She needs to get home—now,” his father said firmly.

      Caleb didn’t hesitate. He scooped Olivia into his arms, carrying her out to the car. During the drive, her head rested on his lap. He held her hand tightly, his thumb brushing across her knuckles, and with his other hand, he gently stroked her hair.

      By the time they reached the house, his heart was racing. He carried her back to her room, where his father immediately examined her.

      “She’s severely dehydrated and exhausted,” his father murmured, preparing a syringe. After administering an injection, he added, “She should wake up in two to three hours. We would need to keep an eye on her.”

      But minutes later, he received an urgent call from the hospital. With an apologetic glance, he left for surgery, leaving Caleb and his mother to watch over Olivia. So, Caleb and his mother sat next to her until she had to leave to take a call.

      Caleb sat beside her, his elbows on his knees, his eyes fixed on her still face. She looked peaceful in sleep—fragile, quiet, almost innocent. Nothing like the girl he had accused and pushed away.

      Maybe he’d been wrong. Maybe he’d been wrong about everything.

      Three hours later, Olivia stirred. Her lashes fluttered, her lips parting slightly as she whispered, barely audible, “Where… am I?”