I pick up the last one from the floor. A nonfiction book about Allied spies who armed the French Resistance and helped the Allies win the Second World War. Jess’s phone is on the floor where the book was a moment ago.
I grab her phone and press the home button. My text is the only notification that pops up on the screen. There’s nothing to indicate where Jess could have gone.
I stride into the foyer. Bailey’s leash is on the hallway table, which means Jess hasn’t taken her for a walk. I check the front door. It’s locked.
Where the hell is she?
Butterscotch gives a small bark and bounds up the stairs.
I follow him. “Do you know where Jess is?”
The guest bedroom door is open. Kellan, Lance, Noah, and I have been working on the room. Jess promised she wouldn’t peek inside until we finished it.
I push the door open wider. The room is how we left it when we were working on the renovations. There’s no sign of Jess.
I turn to leave.
A faint sound comes from the closet. The door was closed the last time I was in the room. Now, it’s partially opened.
I widen the gap in the doorway. Heartbroken sobbing spills from the closet, the sound still muffled.
A dim light pours into the space from the bedroom window, enough for me to see the bookcase along the back wall. A bookcase that I don’t remember opening away from the wall like a door. But that’s exactly how it is now.
The sobbing is coming from the other side of the bookcase. Butterscotch barks and scrambles through the narrow opening.
I turn on my phone flashlight and crouch by the entrance to what appears to be a small space. The beam of light falls on Jess and a pile of blankets and pillows on the floor. She’s shaking from her sobbing and is curled up on her side, her hand resting on Bailey. Bailey gazes at me with sad eyes.
“Jess?”
She doesn’t respond. She keeps sobbing.
The opening between the wall and the bookcase is too narrow for me to slip through. I pull on the bookcase, creating a gap wide enough for me to squeeze past.Holy shit.I had no idea this room was here. It’s the perfect hiding space—especially if you’re a kid. How long has Jess known about it?
I crawl into the space. “Jess?”
Her sobbing doesn’t slow. I have no idea if she even realizes I’m in here.
I put my hand on her arm. Jess doesn’t react or say anything. Bailey pushes to her feet and watches me intently. She whimpers.
At a loss at what to do, I lie behind Jess and spoon her, my arm draped over her waist. I don’t tell her everything’s going to be okay. I can’t predict that when I have no idea what’s going on.Fuck. Did one of the protesters threaten her?
I lean over her and kiss her forehead. “How can I help?”
She shakes her head, inhales a deep, jagged breath, and shifts to face me. I lie back down, putting my head on the pillows. She rests her head on my chest.
I stroke the dip of her spine. Bailey lets out another whimper and lowers herself to the floor. Butterscotch settles himself next to her.
We lie on the blankets, not saying anything. Jess is no longer sobbing, but I sense her need to cry again hovering under the surface. I feel so helpless but at the same time relieved to have found her. I hold her a little tighter.
My phone is on the floor next to me, the beam of light hitting the ceiling. The doorway to the space might be short, but the ceiling looks to be the same height as it is in the bedroom. The walls are covered with drywalling and have been painted white.
“Ten-year-old me would’ve loved this place,” I murmur into Jess’s hair.
She laughs, the choked sound wet and amused. “Ten-year-old me would’ve loved it too. I once removed all of my grandmother’s books from her bookshelves, positive one of them would open a secret door.”
“To Narnia?”
“Definitely not. I had no interest in stumbling across evil winter witches.”
