Page 37 of Veil of Silence

“How do you know?”

Christian shrugged. “My dad said.”

His smile disappeared as quickly as it had come.

“What about your family?” Christian asked.

The boy looked toward the door, wishing he had fun stories to tell also. But he didn’t.

Most days, he doubted if his mom or dad even missed him.

“There’s nothing to tell,” he finally said.

Christian watched him a moment but didn’t ask anything else. Somewhere beyond the walls, an engine started and slowly faded into the distance.

After a moment, Christian leaned his head back. “When we get out, you can come to my house.”

The boy looked at him. “Why?”

“Because my mom makes the best cinnamon rolls.”

“How do you know they’re the best?”

Christian gave him a look. “Because I’ve eaten them.”

The answer was so ridiculous that a laugh slipped out before the boy could stop it.

Christian grinned. “I’m for real.”

“Okay.”

“And you can hear my sisters sing.”

“I’d like that.”

Christian held out his hand. It took the boy a second to understand what he wanted before he reached over and shook it.

“Deal?” Christian asked.

“Deal.”

For a few seconds, neither of them let go. The room had no windows, but the boy could picture Christian’s house anyway—a warm kitchen, cinnamon rolls on the table, three sisters singing, and a place waiting for both of them.

One day, he thought. One day, they’d get out of this place.

Then maybe he’d finally be happy and find a home.

Chapter

Thirteen

PRESENT DAY

Nora knew something was wrong before she even turned off the engine.

Shelby’s front door stood open, and one of the pumpkins had been knocked sideways on the porch. A sheriff’s cruiser sat crooked at the edge of the yard, its driver’s door open.

Nora grabbed her nursing bag and climbed out.