Elissa’s story couldn’t possibly end this way.
Every bit of evidence, every sign, seemed to say Elissa might never come home. Still, he clung to hope. He would keep searching, no matter what the truth turned out to be. Hope would stay alive until the very end. He simply could not consider giving up.
“Dry those tears.” As he stared at Locke’s face—a mirror of Elissa’s—Ernest’s voice grew tender. He smoothed Locke’s hair with a gentle hand. “She hasn’t abandoned you. You know how much she loves you. I’m doing everything I can. Once she feels better, she’ll be back. Let’s wait for her together, all right?”
Locke’s lips quivered, but finally he gave a small nod. “Alright!”
“That’s my boy.” Ernest leaned down and pressed a kiss to his son’s forehead. Then he addressed the nanny. “Take Locke upstairs to clean up and get changed.”
“Of course.” The nanny lifted Locke in her arms and headed up the stairs.
Hadley had watched the whole thing unfold. “Ernest.”
“Hey, Hadley.”
Anyone could see how much more worn out Ernest looked now.
Hadley offered, “Ernest, how about letting Locke stay with me for a while? He could spend some time with Joy, and maybe having a friend around would help distract him a little.”
“No.” Ernest shook his head. “I appreciate it, but I can’t do that. I already told him we’d wait for his mom to come home together, right here.”
He went on, “Staying with you may distract him for a short while, but this isn’t the permanent solution. I need to be the one taking care of him.”
The sting behind Hadley’s eyes grew, but she let it go. “I get it. If you ever need anything, please tell me.”
“I will.” Ernest managed a tired smile. “If I need help, I’ll ask.”
Fatigue written all over his face, he motioned for her to go. “You should head home. Don’t worry about us.”
“Alright. Take care of yourself, Ernest.”
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Hadley picked up on the lingering distance in his tone. She suspected it had to do with Ayla.
Although Ernest hadn’t turned his anger on her the way he did with Eric, after sharing a home with Ernest for so many years, she could read him all too well. Neither she nor Eric ever blamed Ernest. Both of them understood how hard things had become for him.
After leaving Flynn Mansion, Hadley made her way back to Jewel Avenue.
Her phone rang as she was on the road. A glance at the screen showed a landline number from Srixby. It was a local call.
The ringing kept going until she finally picked up. “Hello?”
“Hello.” The voice belonged to a woman Hadley didn’t recognize. “Am I speaking with Ms. Hadley Pearson?”
“That’s right,” Hadley answered. “May I ask who’s calling?”
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