Willa settled her head back into her pillow and gathered her favorite quilt up around her chin. She tried to breathe deeply, evenly. Tried to listen to the quiet outside. The crickets were barely discernable outside her window, but they brought her comfort.

She’d been trying and trying to sleep, but her mind kept turning things over.

Who had broken into her house yesterday? Why?

Why had someone tried to run her and Declan off the road?

And how had the raccoon gotten inside Daleigh’s office? Was it just nature wreaking havoc? Or had someone placed it there?

Her thoughts swiftly moved to Trevor. How was he? Did he miss her? Was he scared being away from home for the first time? She could hardly stand the thought of it.

Dear Lord, please help me. My anxiety is overwhelming. Trying to let go of things I have no control over is terrifying. I don’t know what to do.

She was counting down the days until she could go pick up her son. She’d make him his favorite meal—mac and cheese. But this would be the kind she’d perfected, not like the one she’d made for Declan all those years ago.

She smiled at the memory.

Being with Declan today had been surprisingly pleasant. So had her time with him yesterday. She hadn’t anticipated enjoying herself with him, but his company had been nice. Unexpected. Not as painful as she’d imagined.

And then he’d held her hand, and she’d been zapped back in time to those carefree days of her youth. Oh, how she missed those days sometimes.

She missed feeling like she didn’t have a care in the world. Having watermelon-seed-spitting contests with her friends. Going to the river to jet ski or having campfires at her friend Georgia’s house on weekends.

All with Declan.

But it was like he’d said—when you lost people in your life whom you loved, a broken heart a decade earlier didn’t seem quite as bad. She’d take a broken heart over the suffering of someone she loved.

She turned over in bed. What had happened to Declan’s wife? What had led him back here?

She had so many questions and so few answers. But it didn’t matter. He’d be out of her life soon enough.

As she finally drifted to sleep, a sound—a voice?—jerked Willa from her slumber.

She sat up straight in bed, sweat covering her forehead and her heart racing.

Had that been a dream? Or had she really heard something?

Her throat tightened, and she waited to hear more.

She had to confirm that this was real, that it wasn’t just a nightmare or her overactive imagination.

That’s when she heard it again. The same sound. A cry for help swelled from the silence.

Trevor?

Was that Trevor?

Her breath caught.

No, it couldn’t be.

The cry echoed again, and Willa threw her legs out of bed.

Did Trevor need her help? She had to find him. To help him.

She sprang out of bed and rushed toward the door. As she stepped into the hallway, the sound became clearer.

It was definitely a cry.

And it sounded like Trevor.

She rushed toward the back of the house. The noise had come from her backyard . . . she thought.

“Mommy, help me!” The words became more discernable.

Panic gripped her, and adrenaline surged through her blood.

She threw her patio door open and darted onto her deck.

She could hardly breathe as she listened again, as she waited. She wasn’t sure what direction it had come from.

It was Trevor, though. It sounded just like him. He needed her help.

Willa had no idea how he’d ended up in the backyard. How he’d gotten home from camp. Who’d brought him here?

Could he not get inside because she’d changed the locks?

Or was it worse? Had something terrible happened to him?

The thought caused a knot to lodge in her throat—an epicenter of emotion that sent waves through her muscles like an aftershock.

“Trevor!” she yelled, desperate to find him.

“Over here, Mom!”

The voice had come from the recesses of her yard, toward the back where her property met the woods.

Why was Trevor in the woods? It didn’t matter. All that mattered was reaching him before it was too late.

Willa flew off the deck and rushed across the grass. Just as she reached the trees at the back of her house, a hand reached around her bicep and jerked her to a halt.

And then she was pulled into the shrubs.