“After what she put you through, she deserved it.”
“Regardless, this is not like that.”
No, it’s far worse. Kiera was an enamored assistant who cheated on her husband, hoping for a life with Henry. She’s out of our lives for good. Audrey, on the other hand, was a high school teacher who did a very bad thing and is now forever connected to Henry—and me, by default—for life.
That’s a sobering thought.
Victor makes a right turn onto Acorn Way. It’s a cul-de-sac lined with six adorable houses. He slows in front of a one-and-a-half story with a covered porch and a solid red door. An oak tree fills the front yard, its fallen leaves raked into piles but uncollected. Several bushes around the side could use a healthy trim, but otherwise, the house is cute and well-maintained. “This is it, Mr. Wolf,” he declares.
A large white van is parked in the driveway, its rear doors propped open. A logo on the side names a medical equipment company.
“What’s that about?” I ask.
“There’s only one way to find out.” Henry climbs out, holding the door open for me to follow. He stalls at the base of the stone path.
“You okay?” I ask softly.
“I will be once this is over. I never expected to see her again.” He slips his hand within mine, and I note the clammy feeling of his skin.
We take the stone path up toward the front porch steps as two men are wheeling out a hospital bed.
“Excuse me, can I help you?” A middle-aged woman in a sage green velour tracksuit stands in the open doorway, her wispy brown hair pulled back into a bun that highlights the gray at her temples.
Is this her?
“We’re looking for Audrey Campbell,” Henry says, answering my unspoken question. “I was told she lives here?”
“Oh.” The woman’s face falls. “Yes, but I’m sorry to be the one to inform you that Audrey passed away.”
CHAPTER 8
Henry’s body stiffens beside me. “When?”
“The day before yesterday. She went peacefully, at least.”
The two men who carried out the bed trot up the stairs, murmuring, “Excuse me.”
“Just the last bit over there in the corner,” the woman tells them, pointing to somewhere unseen, before returning her attention to us. “I’m Rhonda. I was Audrey’s hospice caregiver.”
Henry looks like someone’s slapped him.
I step in. “Hi, I’m Abbi and this is Henry. If you don’t mind me asking, what did Audrey pass away from?” Hospice only ever means one thing.
“I guess it’s no secret, given the obituary,” Rhonda says, more to herself. “Audrey had ALS.”
“Oh my gosh.” My eyes flitter to Henry and find a stony expression.
“One of the youngest patients I’ve had pass from it.” Rhonda’s face pinches. “How did you know Audrey?”
“She was an acquaintance of mine,” Henry says, finding his voice. “I haven’t seen her in a very long time.”
“Oh.” Rhonda nods. “She was only diagnosed a few years ago. It progressed quickly. I’m sorry you didn’t get a chance to reacquaint yourself with her.”
Henry’s eyes dart past her, into the house. “Where is Violet?”
“With her grandparents. They moved the last of her things out yesterday morning.”
“And where is that?”
Rhonda hesitates. “I don’t have the address handy.”
Henry crosses his arms. “You don’t have it, or you don’t want to give it to me?”
Rhonda clears her throat. “I’m not permitted to share my patient’s personal information.”
“Audrey’s no longer your patient,” he says calmly.
“Or their family’s information,” Rhonda adds, throwing him a look of disgust.
Henry’s jaw clenches. “Do her grandparents allow her to travel to Manhattan by herself at night?”
“Heavens, no, they wouldn’t allow that. She’s only fifteen!”
“And yet it happened,” he snaps, his patience vanishing. He’s so used to people asking how high when he demands they jump. “I have concerns over Violet’s care, and I need to find her. Now.”
“I can’t just—”
I cut in before Henry erupts. “If you have a way to reach her grandparents and ask for permission to pass along their address, that would be okay, wouldn’t it?”
“I suppose,” she admits reluctantly but doesn’t seem too eager to help.