Echo(76)

I move faster the more my thoughts wander. Flashbacks of what’s occurred in this room begin to gnaw, and when I walk over to the bed to grab my phone that I had left behind, I freeze. Below the window, parked in the street, is the same car I saw on Declan’s gate monitor last night. Or at least I think it is. So many of the cars here are the same, so I can’t be certain, but something in my gut sparks the paranoia.

The car is directly under my view, so all I see is the roof. Hopping off the bed, I rush downstairs, lock the front door, and make my way through the house to see if I can get a better view. Passing the windows, I find myself walking into a room I’ve never been in before—Isla’s room. Pushing the door open, the room is dark with the heavy drapes shut. Barely parting the curtains with my fingers, I peek out, but the car’s gone. The street out front is now vacant, aside from my car.

I open the drapes further to get a better look, and sure enough, the car is gone. Shaking my head, I release a pathetic sigh.

You’re losing your mind, Elizabeth.

I take in a calming breath, retiring my batty thoughts that have no basis. I turn my back to the window and close my eyes as I laugh at myself. When I open them back up, I take in Isla’s room. Scanning around, I walk over to her nightstand to look at the book resting on top. I’m running my fingers along the cover of Madame Bovary when I notice a collection of photos on the mantle above the fireplace. I move slowly along, looking at each picture.

“Oh my God.”

Picking up the tarnished silver frame, I hold it close as I look in disbelief. I wonder if this is the foolish paranoia that remains from the car outside or if this is exactly what my eyes believe it to be.

How did she get this? Why does she have a picture of him?

He’s younger than what I’ve ever seen him, a little boy, but the eyes are irrefutable. There’s no mistaking what I know so well.

It’s him.

But why?

The doorbell rings, startling me, and I drop the frame, cracking the glass as it lands on the wooden floor.

“Shit.”

Scrambling, I pick up the small frame and tuck it in the back of my pants as I run to see who’s at the front door.

Before I make it, there’s a loud knocking.

“Elizabeth? You in there?”

Lachlan?

Looking out the window, I see it’s him.

“What are you doing here?” I question when I open the door.

“Declan asked that I check in on you, and when no one answered my gate call at his home, I came here.”

“He’s been gone only a few hours. What trouble could I possibly have gotten myself into in such a short period of time?” I tease, but the cool metal frame in my pants is evidence I smirk at.

“What’s so funny?”

“You men need hobbies,” I quip as I turn my back and walk towards the stairs.

“I’ve been worried.”

“Have you now?”

“Declan told me you had a hard time with the file,” he says.

Embarrassment rouses, but I shut it down quickly. “I’d prefer to never discuss that issue again.”

“Of course. My apologies.”

“Look, I appreciate you checking in on me, but if you don’t mind, I’m just packing the rest of my things to take back to Declan’s.”

“Are you sure everything’s okay?” he presses as if he’s privy to something he believes me to be aware of.

Call it intuition, but everything about today has got me on high alert for some unsettling reason.

“Yes, everything is just fine,” I say smoothly with a light smile to appease him. “The past couple days have been taxing, as I’m sure you can understand.”

He nods, taking my directive to not mention the file.

“You can report back to your boss that the kid in question is taking good care of herself.”

I smile at my words, and he laughs in return, agreeing, “Will do.”

He turns to leave, but before he shuts the door behind him, he says, “By the way, I’ve tried calling you a couple times . . . ”

“I left my phone here. No one calls me on it, but now that I know I have a babysitter, I’ll be sure to charge it up for you,” I joke.

He shakes his head at me with a smile and then leaves. I go to the door and lock it behind him before returning to my room. Tossing the rest of my things in my suitcase, I take the photo out of the frame and shove it in my bag. I don’t know why she has this picture, but I want it for myself.