Chapter 4

It wasn't until we got downstairs that I realized Sylvie was coming with us.

She settled into the front passenger seat with her little white dog, Pearl, in her lap.

The trunk was crammed with pet supplies. There was no room for my suitcase.

Gavin laid it across my injured legs instead.

One corner struck my cracked ribs as I shifted under the weight. Pain blurred my vision.

He glanced at me in the rearview mirror. "Hang on. We're almost there."

We were less than half a mile from the airport when the hospital called.

"Ms. Bellamy, your father's condition is critical," a nurse said. "If the family has anything left to say to him, now is the time."

She put the phone to Dad's ear.

Through his labored breathing, I heard him struggle to say, "Nina..."

Tears streamed down my face. "Dad, wait for me. I'm at the airport. I'm coming."

An alarm shrieked on the other end. Someone ended the call in a rush.

"Gavin, please hurry. My dad doesn't have much time."

At that moment, Pearl threw up.

"Gavin! Pearl's sick!" Sylvie cried.

Gavin's expression changed. He swung the car into a sudden U-turn.

I slammed against the door. My phone dropped to the floor.

"The airport's right there! What are you doing?"

"Pearl might have eaten something bad. I'm taking her to the vet first."

"My father is fighting for his life! Let me out. I'll run!"

He hit the door-lock button. "I can't stop here. The emergency vet's close. I'll drive you back after they check her."

"My flight will be gone by then!"

"Then book another. Your dad has doctors. You can't do anything for him by being there. Pearl can't even tell us where she hurts."

I pounded the window. "Gavin, I'm begging you! Let me out!"

He locked the doors again, just to make sure. "Stop it. Fighting with me while I'm driving is dangerous."

Sylvie turned around. "I'm sure your father can hold on a little longer. Pearl only has Gavin to take care of her. Please try to understand."

I watched the airport shrink into the distance.

Twenty minutes later, Gavin pulled up outside an emergency veterinary clinic.

He rushed inside with Pearl in his arms. Sylvie hurried after them.

Neither of them opened my door.

I hammered on the window until my throat burned from shouting.

They never once looked back.

To them, I was nothing more than another piece of luggage they'd locked in the car.

I found the emergency window hammer and smashed the glass to escape.

Dragging my suitcase, I stumbled into the pouring rain. Not a single car would stop for me.

Then Mom answered my call.

"Nina," she sobbed, "your dad's gone. He kept his eyes open right until the end. He was waiting for you."

Whatever strength I had left vanished.

My suitcase fell. Its latch sprang open, and Dad's pocket watch tumbled into a puddle. The glass face shattered.

He'd spent his last moments waiting for me.

And my promise that I'd be home soon had become a lie I could never make right.

When Gavin finally came outside, I was on my knees in the rain, collecting pieces of the watch.

"Pearl just ate too fast," he said. "I'll take you to the airport now. You can change your flight."

I looked up at him. "My dad is dead."

For a moment, he froze. Then his brows knit together.

"It was an emergency. Nobody could control what happened. Even if I'd driven you straight to the airport, you might not have made it in time. You can't blame his death on me."

"If you hadn't taken his surgery money... If you'd just let me out of the car... Would he still be alive?"

Gavin said nothing.

Sylvie appeared beside him with an umbrella, tilting most of it over his head.

"Nothing will bring him back," she said. "Gavin didn't know this would happen. Don't take it out on him."

Gavin didn't contradict her. He checked his watch.

"Sign Finn's forgiveness letter first. He has paperwork to take care of this afternoon."

That was the moment every last feeling I had for him died.

I clutched the shattered watch to my chest, picked up my suitcase, and walked into the downpour.

Behind me, Gavin's voice was flat.

"Let her go. She'll come back when our progress chart says it's time."

I caught the red-eye home.

After we buried Dad, I changed my number, ended my lease, and filed legal papers to recover the money Gavin had taken.

On the fifth day, the progress chart said I was supposed to return.

Gavin waited until late that night before going to my apartment.

The landlord, Walt Kessler, was clearing out what I'd left behind.

Gavin strode toward him. "Someone still lives here. Why are you touching her things?"

Kessler stared at him.

"Didn't she tell you? She moved out five days ago."