Free Once Gone by Blake Pierce Page B

phone and texted Marie.
    Hey. You still awake?
    After a few seconds, the reply came.
    Yes. How are U?
    Riley typed: Pretty shaky. And you?
    Too scared to sleep.
    Riley wanted to type something to make both of them feel better. Somehow, just texting like this didn’t seem to be enough.
    Do U want to talk? she typed. I mean TALK—not just text?
    It took several long seconds before Marie replied.
    No, I don’t think so.
    Riley was surprised for a moment. Then she realized that her voice might not always be comforting for Marie. Sometimes it might even trigger awful flashbacks for her.
    Riley remembered Marie’s words the last time they had spoken. Find that son of a bitch. And kill him for me. And as she pondered them, Riley did have news that she thought Marie might want to hear.
    I’m back on the job, Riley typed.
    Marie’s words poured out in a rush of typed phrases.
    Oh good! So glad! I know it’s not easy. I’m proud. U r very brave.
    Riley sighed. She didn’t feel so brave—not just at this moment, anyway.
    Marie’s words continued.
    Thank U. Knowing you’re working again makes me feel much better. Maybe I can sleep now. Goodnight.
    Riley typed: Hang in there.
    Then she put her phone down. She felt a bit better, too. After all, she’d accomplished something, getting back to work like this. Slowly but surely, she really was starting to heal.
    Riley drank the rest of her tea, then went straight to bed. She let her exhaustion overtake her and fell asleep quickly.
     
    Riley was six years old, in a candy store with Mommy. She was so happy about all the candy Mommy was buying for her.
    But then a man walked toward them. A big, scary man. He wore something over his face—a nylon stocking, just like Mommy wore on her legs. He pulled a gun. He yelled at Mommy to give him her purse. But Mommy was so scared that she couldn’t move. She couldn’t give it to him.
    And so he shot her in the chest.
    She fell to the floor bleeding. The man snatched up the purse and ran.
    Riley started screaming and screaming and screaming.
    Then she heard Mommy’s voice.
    “There’s nothing you can do, dear. I’m gone and you can’t help it.”
    Riley was still in the candy store but she was all grown up now. Mommy was right in front of her, standing over her own corpse.
    “I’ve got to bring you back!” Riley cried.
     Mommy was smiling sadly at Riley.
    “You can’t,” Mommy said. “You can’t bring back the dead.”
     
    Riley sat up, breathing hard, startled from her sleep by a rattling noise. She looked all around, on edge. The house was silent now.
    But she’d heard something, she was sure. Like a noise at the front door.
    Riley jumped to her feet, her instincts kicking in. She got a flashlight and her gun out of the dresser and moved carefully through the house toward the front door.
    She peered through the small glass pane in the door, but saw nothing. All was silent.
    Riley braced herself and quickly opened the door wide, shining the light outside. No one. Nothing.
    As she moved the light around something on the front stoop caught her attention. A few pebbles were scattered there. Had somebody tossed them at the door, causing that rattling?
    Riley wracked her brain, trying to remember if those pebbles had been there when she’d gotten home last night. In her haze, she simply couldn’t be sure one way or the other.
    Riley stood there for a few moments, but there was no sign of anybody anywhere.
    She closed and locked the front door and headed back down the short hallway to her bedroom. As she reached the end, she was startled to see that April’s bedroom door was slightly open.
    Riley pulled the door open wide and looked inside.
    Her heart pounded with terror.
    April was gone.

 

Chapter 12
     
    “April!” Riley screamed. “April!”
    Riley ran to the bathroom and looked inside. Her daughter wasn’t there either.
    She ran desperately through the house, opening doors, looking into every room and every closet.