Page 115 of Crossing Arizona

“Yeah. We should probably get some duck food.”

The phone vibrates again, insistent now, and we groan in unison.

“Alright, alright,” my boyfriend mumbles, untangling himself to reach for it. “Salem better have a damn good reason for interrupting us.”

When he gets the phone in his hand, though, the soft smile on his mouth drops when we realize it’s his phone ringing, not mine. Swiping the screen, he raises it to his ear. “This is Matthew.”

I lean back on the stairs, my head resting against the railing as I watch him. His expression shifts when he hears the voice on the other end, his brows knitting together.

“Who’s this?” His posture stiffens, and the blood drains from his face. “What do you mean, arrested?”

When his voice cracks, I go rigid, a cold sense of dread pooling in my stomach.

Matty’s hand trembles as he grips the phone tighter. “What about Hannah? Is she…”

The mention of her name has me jumping to my feet. “What’s going on?”

His lips part slightly, like the air’s been knocked out of him. “I’ll get there as soon as I can.”

“Matty, tell me what’s wrong.”

“Hannah’s in the hospital,” he whispers hoarsely, lowering the phone. “Valerie… she’s in custody.”

My heart drops, fear lancing through me as I grip his shoulder. “What happened?”

“I-I don’t know,” he stammers, his eyes wide in shock. “The cop said something about child endangerment.”

His hand drops the phone to the floor, and I grab his face, forcing him to look at me. “Listen to me, baby. We’re going to the hospital. Right now. Get dressed.”

He nods, but it’s like he’s moving through water, sluggish and dazed. I help him to his feet, pulling clothes onto both of us as the weight of what’s happening crashes over me. He’s barely holding it together, his breaths ragged as I shove his shoes into his hands.

“She’s stable,” he mutters like he’s trying to convince himself. “He said she’s stable.”

“She’s going to be okay,” I tell him fiercely, even though I don’t know if I’m telling him the truth. “We’ll get to her. Let’s go.”

As we rush out the door, I catch the hollow fear in his eyes, and only one thought burns in my mind like a brand:

Please, don’t do this to me.

Don’t let me lose what I just barely got back.

Chapter forty-seven

Matty is a ghost of himself on the drive to the hospital.

As I push the Benz to its limits, following the GPS without thinking, he stares blankly out the window, repeatedly mumbling the same words under his breath.

“She’ll be okay. She has to be okay.”

The twenty-minute drive lasts forever. At some point, I reach over, threading our fingers together. His grip tightens instinctively, but his shell-shocked gaze never shifts from the dark.

I don’t even bother finding a parking spot when we finally pull up to the hospital. The car stays running, hazard lights flashing as we bolt through the emergency room doors, skidding to a stop at the front desk, both of us breathless.

“Hannah,” Matty rasps, his voice cracking. He clears his throat and tries again. “My daughter, Hannah Albrecht. She was brought here. I need to see her.”

The nurse asks a series of questions, and Matty falters, his brain clearly too frazzled to answer. I step in, rattling off details while she checks his ID. The process is maddeningly slow, and even though I know she’s just doing her job, it’s taking too long. All I can think about is Hannah.

Finally, the nurse looks up. “You can go back. She just got out of surgery.”