“She said she hasn’t been able to contact you. Your phone’s been off?” That would explain a lot.
Without hesitation, Elissa pulled open the drawer beside her bed. Inside was her phone, completely drained of power.
A faint smile appeared on her lips. “I’ve felt so awful lately, I didn’t even think to check it.”
“And there’s more,” Hadley said, lowering her voice as she leaned even closer. “She called me from the airport—she’s already here. She’s in Srixby.”
Those words hit Elissa hard. Her fingers closed tightly around Hadley’s, and her eyes filled with tears that quickly spilled over.
“She’s really here…”
That reaction said everything. Hadley didn’t need to ask—Elissa must have already known Savannah was on her way, and now she was finally here to see her in person.
“This is something to be happy about,” Hadley said gently, patting the back of her hand. “Your mom’s here now—she’s your family, the one who loves you most.”
There was something deeply comforting about a mother’s love. In a world full of uncertainty, that bond stood unmatched.
“She is,” Elissa whispered with a nod, tears clinging to her lashes. Her chest swelled with emotion—and a touch of remorse.
Back then, she had been stubborn, choosing to walk away and leave her mother behind.
A gentle knock interrupted the moment. Someone was at the door.
“Elissa, Hadley, I’m coming in now,” Ernest said.
A quick look passed between them before they smoothly shifted the topic.
“Oh, that reminds me,” Hadley said, tilting her head. “I saw boxes everywhere downstairs. Are you reorganizing the house or something?”
Just then, the door swung open, and Ernest walked in with a tray balanced in his free hand.
Fll ? i? ? glov?ls.
Without missing a beat, he responded to her question.
“Yeah, we’re packing up. The plan is to relocate soon.”
“You’re moving?” Hadley blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Where are you going?”
“What did you just say? What’s going on?” Elissa chimed in, her shock even more evident than Hadley’s.
Being confined upstairs for days, she hadn’t known a thing about the changes happening around her.
Elissa fixed her gaze on Ernest without wavering, the air between them crackling with tension. She pressed him again. “I’m asking you—what move? Moving where, exactly?”
Ernest’s brows drew together in a sharp line, but he remained silent for several heartbeats.
Sighing, he moved closer and carefully placed the tray he carried onto the nearby surface. A small soup bowl sat upon it, its lid fitted tightly in place. He settled beside Elissa on the sofa and spoke with deliberate gentleness. “Didn’t you mention that even the slightest hint of grease makes you sick? This is a light, completely oil-free vegetable soup that I had the kitchen prepare specially for you.”
.
.
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