Free Always You by Crystal Hubbard

head on in times of grief. Their Grandma Claire’s death had been a time of unbearable sorrow, but from that painful soil, Cady’s beautiful family had grown. And continued to grow, Chiara acknowledged with another glance at Cady’s barely noticeable abdomen.
    “John’s been around a lot since he moved back here to start USITI Junior,” Cady said. “He has dinner with us almost every Sunday.”
    “He loves Mama’s cooking.”
    “He loves you,” Cady said. “When are you two finally going to stop pissing around and get mar—”
    Chiara abruptly stood. “I’m tired. I’m going to bed. See you guys in the morning.”
    She ignored Cady’s loud whisper calling her name as she hurried to the opening of the stairwell and disappeared through the trapdoor. She bypassed the bedroom where her nieces seemed to have quieted for the night. She caught a glimpse of her mother reading in bed, but rushed by her open door without a word to her. Chiara kept going until she’d reached the kitchen where she retrieved her coat. She pulled it on as she moved through the darkened dining room and foyer. Silently, she opened the front door and slipped out of the house.
    Once outside, she took a long, deep breath of the frigid air. It refreshed her but did nothing to rid her of the tension coiled in her neck and lower back. Nor did it clear away the anxiety tightening her chest. She trotted to her rental car and hopped into it. As she was pulling her left leg in, she happened to glance down.
    Long footprints in the snowy street held her gaze. The new snow had erased the evidence of her movement in or out of the car, yet someone with big feet had been near her car recently. The prints were dusted over with snow, but they were clear enough to make the fine hairs at the back of Chiara’s neck stiffen. She studied them closer, reading the pattern of them, and what they revealed chilled her blood.
    The footprints began at her driver’s side door. As if their owner had exited the vehicle soon after she had.
    Chiara leaped out of the car and peered into its darkened interior. The tiny backseat of the Mazda was empty. She whirled around, her heart thundering in her ears, looking around her. Her neighborhood slumbered peacefully, a few lights in the upper floors of the houses glowing warmly into the night.
    Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Nothing other than the big footprints leading from her car to the sidewalk in front of her mother’s house.
    * * *
    “I didn’t call you to make you come here.” Chiara opened the door to her hotel room wider and retreated a few steps, allowing John to enter. “You should be at home with your family.”
    “So should you.” He closed the door behind him, then turned the thumb latch and bolted the security lock. “Your family’s a lot more pleasant to be around than mine, so I really don’t understand why you ended up running to a hotel in the middle of the night on Christmas Eve.”
    “It’s Christmas now,” she said sullenly. “And there was no room at the inn. My mother’s house is full, and I didn’t feel like bunking with my nieces.” She led him into the living room section of her suite.
    John whistled under his breath when he took in the view from her wall-length window. The St. Louis Gateway Arch, gleaming like a 630-foot stainless steel ornament, practically stood in her living room. “I hope you’re charging this to your USITI expense account.”
    “I’m on my own dime tonight.” Chiara curled up in an ornately styled wing chair. She’d changed into an oversized T-shirt, and the garment rode up high on her thighs as she folded her legs under her. “I asked for a standard room, but the front desk guy was feeling the spirit of the holiday and upgraded me to a junior suite.” She pointed to a counter, where a black platter sat at the edge of a sink. “He even sent up a bottle of champagne and a plate of fruit and cheese, all compliments of the hotel.”
    John squatted before