“Did they say where they were going?”
“I’m coming with you.”
He frowned, thinking. “The man told me to bring their car fast. Then he called someone and said, ‘Call the hospital. Tell them we’re coming.’”
Jett grabbed his keys. “I’m coming with you.”
“No.”
“Laura, you don’t know who these people are.”
“That’s exactly why I have to go.”
This time, I wasn’t waiting for anyone.
For four months, I had waited—for the police to call, for strangers to recognize her photograph, for someone else to uncover the clue that would bring my mother home. Waiting had given me nothing but sleepless nights and unanswered questions.
I slipped the plastic bag into my pocket and headed for the door.
This time, I wasn’t waiting for anyone.