As we part ways to gather our supplies, I pull Thane aside.
“There’s something you’re not telling me,” I say.
His face remains expressionless. “There usually is.”
When he starts to turn away, I grab his elbow.
“Thane—”
“Now isn’t the time. When this is all over, when we get back safely,” he says, “then we can talk.”
I want to push him for answers, but he’s right. There’s no time.
“I’m going to hold you to that promise,” I tell him.
He grins. “I know you will, Grace-face.”
I’m so stunned by his uncharacteristic smile that I stand silent as he turns and heads out on his errand. Then I shake myself back to reality. Time is ticking and I need to get moving too. Two hours until the scariest moment of my life. It may be selfish, but I’m glad Thane will be at my side. Who can a girl rely on if not her big brother?
CHAPTER 32
GREER
Mother and Dad would never accept and understand the situation the way Grace’s parents did. They would think I’d lost my mind or that I was acting out to win their attention. The idea of telling them the truth about everything does not even cross my mind.
However, the danger to them is all too real. I can’t keep them in the dark, going on with their everyday lives when the peril grows with every passing minute. When another monster might show up at our front door at any time.
Which is why, while the others disperse across the city to gather supplies for our trip into the abyss, I return home, calling my parents along the way.
Dad agrees easily, promising to swing by the house on the way to his afternoon meeting in the Haight. Mother is a more difficult sell.
“I’m sure this can wait, Greer,” she says, sounding distracted. “We can discuss your emergency when I get home this evening.”
I don’t tell her that an emergency, by its very definition, cannot wait. I don’t tell her, either, that she likely won’t be home before I would normally be in bed asleep.
“Please, Mother.” I hate to beg, even more than she hates seeing or hearing desperation, but I tell myself that in a short while she won’t remember this conversation. “It truly cannot wait. Please come home.”
I hear her sigh. Voice muffled, as if she’s covering the mouthpiece of her phone, she tells her assistant, “Transfer the notes to my tablet. I’ll read them on my way home.”
“Thank you, Mo—”
The phone clicks dead in my ear. I stifle the brief surge of pain. No point wasting time and energy being hurt. She’s coming home—they both are—and I will make them safe. That’s all that matters.
Dad arrives first. He’s on the phone, waving me off for a moment. “Absolutely not,” he barks into the phone. “Those terms are unacceptable and they know it. Send them back to their garage to come up with something more reasonable.”
He snaps his phone back onto his belt holster.
“What is the big emergency, Greer?” he asks, sounding more intrigued than concerned.
“I’d rather wait for Mother to arrive,” I say. “So I can talk with you both at once.”
“Your mother is coming home as well?” His brows lift in surprise. “Sounds serious.”
Mother walks in, saving me from a temporary explanation.
“I’m here,” she says. “Now please tell me what on earth is so very urgent.”
As much as I would rather they sit, giving me the slight advantage of height over them, I don’t have time. My sisters and the boys will be here any minute. I need to get my parents out of harm’s way before that happens.
“You need to take a vacation,” I say.
Mother snorts.
“You know that’s not possible,” Dad says. “But if you want to use the company jet—”
I step closer to Mother, focus my eyes on hers, and will the power to work. “You need to take a vacation.”
She scowls, and then her face clears. In a hollow voice, she says, “I need to take a vacation.”
“What?” Dad sounds stunned. As well he should. The last time I remember my parents taking a vacation was … well, never. I think they even passed on a honeymoon in favor of business school graduation.
“I need a vacation,” Mother repeats.
Before Dad can figure out something weird is going on, I put myself in his line of sight, look him in the eye, and say, “Yes, you both need a vacation.”
Immediately his face goes just as blank as Mother’s. “We need a vacation.”
“Somewhere warm,” I say. “Without internet. Without cell phone service.”
“No cell phone,” Mother repeats.
For an instant, half a moment, I’m tempted to go one step further. To tell my mother I love her and hear her tell me back. But I know it won’t be real. Mother doesn’t express affection.
Instead, I continue my instructions. “You won’t even pack a bag. You will get your passports. Take a car to the airport and make the travel arrangements when you get there. Buy everything you need when you get to your destination.”
“Passports,” Dad says.
Mother nods. “Destination.
“You will be gone at least two weeks,” I add. “You will not check in with me because you know I’m fine.”
“You’re fine.”
I glance at my watch, an antique handed down from my great-grandmother. I have only a few minutes.