“No!” she yelled. “He’s still here!”
“He’s not.”
“I have to change his mind!”
“You can’t.”
His voice lacked all trace of emotion, the words coming out as if there was simply no room for argument, but she couldn’t accept them. It couldn’t be too late.
She waved frantically toward the Mazda. “His car’s still here!”
“He didn’t drive.”
“He wouldn’t leave it!”
“He left it for you.”
“There’s no way! He loves that car!”
“He loves you more.”
Haven lost her composure at those words. Tears streamed down her cheeks as a loud sob ripped from her chest, echoing through the quiet yard. Her knees buckled and she collapsed on the porch, shaking her head.
“That’s not right,” she cried. “It can’t be right. He wouldn’t just leave!”
Dr. DeMarco continued to stand there, not moving from the spot in the doorway. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” she asked with disbelief. “You’re sorry?”
Before he could respond, he was shoved out of the way as Dominic burst past him. He crouched down on the porch and pulled Haven into his arms, softly shushing her as he glared at his father.
“Dominic,” Haven said. “Make him come back!”
“I can’t,” Dominic said. “I tried, Twinkle Toes, I really did, but he wouldn’t listen.”
Haven started sobbing harder, hiccupping as she tried to catch her breath. She was splintering, her heart ripping from her chest as she shattered into a million tiny jagged pieces.
“You need to calm down,” Dominic said, stroking her hair softly. “Take a deep breath, will you? It’s going to be okay.”
“How can you say that?” she asked desperately. “I need him!”
Dominic squeezed her tighter. “No, you don’t. I know it feels like it, but you don’t. You’re strong. You’ll be just fine on your own.”
Those words didn’t have the impact Dominic seemed to think they would. Instead of comforting her, consoling her, she felt all remnants of lingering happiness fade away, like the last bit of water from a faucet swirling down a narrow drain.
On your own. The words seeped into her skin, inciting the same terrified feelings she once had in Blackburn when she ran through the desert, desperate for her life to be spared. Everything she knew disappeared into the night, leaving her alone with a cloudy future.
Alone.
“How can he be gone?” she whispered. “He didn’t even give me a chance to say good-bye.”
8
Carmine stood in a pile of slush along the street. His socks clung uncomfortably to his feet as wetness seeped through the soles of his old Nike’s, but he couldn’t move from that spot. He was as frozen as the ice that coated the sidewalk.
The house stood only a few feet away from the curb, the blue door illuminated by the glow of a nearby streetlight. It was just after sunset, but the cloud-covered Chicago sky made it feel much later.
They had been traveling all day since leaving Durante, two hours in the car before quite a few more on a plane. There hadn’t been any arguing, no judgment or pity—in fact, no one said much of anything at all. He was left alone to his thoughts, and while he usually appreciated it, today was an entirely different case.