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Avery gripped her backpack straps and forced the panic down. She needed the next flight to Chicago.
ADDISYN REMEMBERED THEplace exactly. She set her face with determination and marched through the streets.
The constant blare of traffic horns was shredding her nerves. She fought the urge to clap her hands over her ears. Again she felt a wave of compassion for Avery. This turmoil had been even worse for her shy, sensitive sister. Yet she’d stayed—for Addisyn.
If only she could have the chance to thank Avery for what she’d done.
Her insides churned wildly when she considered that in just a few minutes, she’d be standing face-to-face with Avery again. Her sister would probably blast her with a lecture, a tirade about sin and judgment. Or maybe she’d refuse to see her—slam the door in her face and turn away.
Just as Addisyn had done three years earlier.
Addisyn swallowed hard. There was no denying that she would deserve all of that and then some. But as gut-wrenching as it would undoubtedly be, Avery’s reaction wasn’t important. Addisyn was in New York City because there were some things she had to say. She wanted five minutes, that was all. Just five minutes to tell Avery what was in her heart.
And then her sister could kick her to the curb if she wanted to.
Odd, she hadn’t thought about these directions in years, but somehow her feet still knew the way to the apartment the sisters had shared for so long. This part of town looked grungy to her now. Had it always been this dilapidated?
There was that same old sign, although the paint was chipping now. HUDSON APARTMENTS. The building was still as pompously square as ever. Addisyn’s chest pulled tight. Oh, what would Avery say? For that matter, what wouldshesay? How could she ever apologize enough?
She opened the door to the ground floor. The ugly green carpet hadn’t changed, and the desk still had that peeling Formica countertop. But the faces were entirely different.
Addisyn looked around for the kind older woman who had helped Avery and her so much when they first arrived in the city. “Uh—is Maggie here?”
Two men sat behind the desk. One of them was talking on the phone in a low tone. The other, a wiry guy with glasses, shook his head. “No, she retired six weeks ago.” He held out his hand. “I’m her son, Jake.”
Addisyn shook his hand automatically. “Addisyn Miles. I’m here to visit my sister. It’s apartment three sixteen.”
“Three sixteen...let’s see here.” The man studied a book on his desk. Then he looked up, frowning. “I’m sorry. I don’t have anyone down in that room right now.”
Addisyn felt as if a whip had been flicked across her face. “What?”
“There’s no one living in three sixteen.”
“My sister lives there.” Addisyn grasped desperately to the only reality she knew.
The man must have sensed the agony in her soul. “Well—” he turned and pulled out a fat file folder. “What’s the name?”
“Avery Miles.” Addisyn was not going to be sick. Not in here.
“Miles—” the man muttered. His finger traced down a spreadsheet, then jerked to a stop. “Yup. Here it is.”
Addisyn began breathing again. The man was going to tell her he’d made a cruel mistake, that Avery was still there, on the third floor, that Addisyn hadn’t lost the last hope she had of ever connecting with her sister.
“She lived in three sixteen for six years. But she left.”
“She—she left?”
The man’s mouth quirked to one side compassionately. “I’m sorry. This shows she left in late July of last year. So, a year ago.”
A year. Avery could have gone anywhere in a year. Addisyn clutched the counter to steady herself. “You don’t know where she went?”
“No, I’m sorry.”
“She didn’t leave a forwarding address? A phone number?”
The man shrugged helplessly. “No. But like I said, I’m new. I started working after Mom left.”
“And you said your mom retired how long ago?” This was way too much information to process at once.
