wasn’t fair.
“Miss, I’m going
to have to ask you to leave. It isn’t safe for you to be here.”
I looked up to
find a campus police officer standing by my side. He hadn’t been the first
person to ask me to leave the area this morning. My dad had been the
first—right before he sat down on the concrete next to me and told me that
Chloe hadn’t made it to the dorms last night.
“What could
possibly happen to me?” Even to my own ears, I sounded so tired. “There is
nothing here that can hurt me. It’s all gone. All of it. Scattered around
campus and floating in the air like leaves. So, if you don’t mind, I’m going to
sit here for a while.”
The cop was
about to argue when a white SUV appeared, coming to a stop right next to the
wreckage. Aiden climbed out of the vehicle. Despite my sadness, my heart did a
little dance when I saw him.
“Is there a
problem, officer?” Aiden asked as he stepped over the caution tape that
surrounded what was left of the library.
The policeman
sighed and fumbled with his hat. “I was just telling this young lady that it
isn’t safe here. It isn’t safe for you, either. Maybe the two of you can talk
some sense into each other. I’ll be back in half an hour to check.”
The officer
walked back to his motorcycle and rode away.
With a heavy
sigh, Aiden sat down next to me. He took my hand and pulled me close, wrapping
his arm around my shoulder. I closed my eyes when he pressed a gentle kiss to
my temple.
“Nice ride.”
“Thanks,” he
said. “It’s my dad’s.”
“Where’s your
truck?”
“Not sure.”
I snuggled
closer.
“Did you sleep?”
he asked.
“No.”
“Neither did I.”
I tried to
swallow, but my throat was too dry. It felt as if something was lodged there,
but that was impossible. I hadn’t eaten since around noon yesterday.
“Chloe’s
missing.”
“I know. Your dad
told me.” Aiden nuzzled my hair with his nose. “It’s not your fault, Laura.”
“She always said
I didn’t take the warnings seriously,” I said, my voice flat and detached
despite the overwhelming emotion that bubbled within me.
“Just because
she’s missing doesn’t mean . . .” his voice trailed off as he pulled me closer.
“It doesn’t mean anything. Cell service is spotty at best and campus internet
has been off since last night. She could be anywhere. Don’t assume the worst
just because there’s no news.”
He was just
trying to console me, and I appreciated it, but how could he look at the rubble
of the library and not assume the very worst?
“Tornadoes are
powerful beasts,” Aiden murmured against my temple. “Just look at our campus.
Two buildings on the other side of the quad look just like this one. The rest
are untouched. There’s no rhyme or reason. No pattern. No logic.”
Once again, I
wiped my nose with my dirty sleeve. Would I ever stop crying?
“My mom has
always been terrified of storms,” I said. “There was some big outbreak of
tornadoes when I was a baby. One minute, my mom was sitting on the couch
watching television. There was a roar, and the next thing she knew, the walls
were gone, and she was sitting on the couch with the remote still in her hand.
I was found under my crib.”
Aiden’s eyes
were wide. “Were you hurt?”
“Not a scratch.”
His face
softened as he gently smoothed my hair away from my face. I was sure I looked
like an absolute mess. I was in desperate need of a shower and a nap, but I
couldn’t bring myself to move from this spot.
“That explains
why your mom was so afraid of storms.”
I nodded. “I
don’t remember that, of course, and I’ve never seen anything like this.” I
kicked at the debris. The dust was beginning to make my eyes water. “Those sirens
. . . in the summer, it’s a rare occurrence if we don’t hear them several times
a week, maybe even several times a day. It makes you complacent. You eventually
just tune them out completely until . . .”
I bowed my