Page 25

I should’ve called her landline earlier in the day and told her I was running late because Mum was in the hospital after I found her passed out on the floor again. But instead, I told myself everything would work out fine, and that stupid mindset cost me everything.

Cost her everything.

My grip tightened on the wheel as I merged onto the freeway, the city lights blurring past. “Fuck,” I muttered, dragging the palm of my hand across my cheek, only realising after that it was wet. The day they declared Evie dead…that was the day something in me snapped clean in half. I’d driven straight into a tree like it was a decision I’d already made before I got in the car. No hesitation. No second thought. Just…impact. I woke up in a hospital bed with a concussion and a broken nose. That was it. Not even close to where she was.

There wasn’t even a funeral. No casket, no flowers, no place to stand and say goodbye. Because Peter refused to believe it. He stood in front of cameras, telling anyone who’d listen that he wasn't doing anything until he found her. Detective Peter Rosen—another casualty of that night. I didn’t just lose her, I lost him too. I tried, at the start. To be as hopeful as he was, to push back against the dead ends and keep searching for answers. But I was lost without her. So yeah, I stopped chasing his version of things. Stopped watching the news, stopped listening to the theories. I couldn’t live in that world where she might still be out there, suffering, waiting.

Hope like that?

It’s a slow kind of torture.

Better to bury her, mourn her, and let it rot inside me till I take my last breath. So I moved closer to the city for my career, and didn’t look back. I just left it all behind. Or at least, I tried to. Didn’t work. It never fucking did.

The garage door rattled open and I pulled in, before I left the engine idling longer than it needed to as the door closed behind me. My hands stayed on the wheel while my forehead dropped forward, resting against it. I sat in the car for five deprecating minutes before going inside. The front door clicked shut behind me and Ollie started up immediately. A loud, offended yowl echoed through the house like I’d personally betrayed him.

“There he is,” I called, my voice softer now, something almost human creeping back into it. “Hey, little buddy. Miss me, did you?” He wound himself around my legs before I scooped him up, his black and white fur soft under my hands. “Hmm?” I murmured, scratching under his chin. “Hungry?” He nudged into my palm, purring like a little engine, loud and steady. I found him digging through my bin last year, half-starved, ribs showing, mean as hell. He’d since taken up to running the place like he owned it.

“C’mon then. Let’s fix that.”

I carried him into the kitchen, the TV in the living room still on from where I left it for him, highlight reels from the game looping on repeat. Was it pathetic that I found comfort in knowing that while I was out on the field, he was at home watching? Probably. Ollie climbed up onto my shoulder like he’d done a hundred times before, tail curling around my neck as I grabbed his food.

“Yeah, I hear you,” I said as he let out another sharp meow. “Relax.” I scooped it into the bowl and barely got it down before he was off me and halfway through it. “Unbelievable,” I muttered, shaking my head in amusement before making myself something to eat. The microwave hummed as I threw last night’s leftovers in, and I leaned back against the counter, arms folded, watching Ollie eat like he’d never seen food before.

“Jackson Easton was brilliant tonight. Twenty-five disposals, ten goals in the last quarter. Single-handedly turning the game around…” I huffed a quiet laugh, glancing toward the TV. “For a moment there, it looked like the Cats had it in the bag. But I’ll tell you what, Baz. Easton’s a legend in the making. What would the Kangaroos do without him?”

I shook my head, grabbing the plate when the microwave dinged, heat biting into my fingers. Ollie trailed after me as I moved into the living room, settling onto the couch. The leather creaked under my weight as I dropped down, letting the plate cool on the coffee table while I flicked through channels. Nothing on. Never was, this time of night. The noise filled the space, though. That was the point. I leaned back, eyes on the screen, but not really seeing it.

Until I did.

“I am also announcing a separate reward of ten thousand dollars for any information that may assist in locating Evelyn Rosen or determining what happened to her…” The remote slipped straight out of my hand and hit the floor with a dull clatter, the batteries rolling out and disappearing under the couch. For a second, there was nothing—no noise, no air, no weight in my body at all. Just a hollow, suspended kind of stillness, like I’d stepped off something and hadn’t hit the ground yet.

“If you knew something back then and didn’t come forward, now is the time. If you saw something and dismissed it, now is the time. If you’ve been holding onto something for years, unsure if it mattered—it does. Please call crime stoppers at 0018-000-333.”

Fucking hell.

His face shifted, just slightly…and then he showed an image of Evie. It was her last school portrait. I remember she’d just gotten her hair cut—she didn't like it, but I thought she’d never looked more beautiful. The thought hit me now like something physical.

“Evie…if God is willing, and somehow you’re watching this, know that I love you, and I miss you beyond words. And I’m not stopping. Do you hear me? I’m not stopping until I bring you home.” The screen blurred for a second before snapping back into focus.

Peter was still talking.

But I didn’t hear it properly anymore.

I stared at her face instead. At that version of her that still existed somewhere in time, untouched by everything that came after. The tears finally fell down my cheeks, and I forced myself to look away. I couldn’t fucking see—I just…I couldn’t look at her anymore. I stared at the steam still rising faintly, curling up from the bowl of spaghetti. I sat there for a long time without moving. The TV kept talking, but it was white noise now.

I didn’t remember when I stood up. Just that suddenly I was in the kitchen, with a plate scraped into the bin. By the time I showered, the house had gone quiet again. I toweled off, jumped in bed, and pulled the doona back for Ollie without looking at him. He hopped in immediately, curling into the warmth like he knew I didn’t have anything left to give tonight.

My chest tightened again as the familiar emptiness seeped into my mind. I closed my eyes and willed myself to sleep as unwanted tears slid down my cheeks and dampened my pillow. Evie. Evie. Evie. My heartbeat pounded in my ears to the tune of her name as I imagined what she’d be doing if she were here right now.

“I’m so proud of you,” she said softly, brushing damp hair off my forehead like she’d done a hundred times before. “You were incredible out there tonight.”

“Were you watching?” I asked, because in this version of me, I still needed to believe she would’ve been.

“Of course I was.” She smiled one of shy little grins.

“I miss you,” I said, because I never grew tired of saying it, even when it changed nothing.

Her smile softened before she took my hand and pressed it to her lips.“I know,” she whispered. “I know you do.”