Here We Come (Aggie's Inheritance) (125 page)

Aggie
wept.
Little
arms
wrapped
around
her
and
her
nephew—her
son—who
had
seemed
such
a
little
man
just
the
previous
week
,
now
crawled
into
her
lap
like
a
small
child.
“It’s
all
my
fault.
I
should
have
gone.
She’s
not
coming
back.
I
just
know
she’s
not
coming
back
and
it’s
all
my
fault.”

“Shh,
it’s
not
your
fault,”
Aggie
sobbed.
“No
one
could
have
prevented
this.
I
think
if
it
wasn’t
yesterday,
it
would
have
been
today
or
tomorrow.
Maybe
it
should
have
been
last
week,
but
she
had
a
cold
and
was
inside.
For
some
reason,
this
had
to
happen.”

“But
she’s
gone!”

A
voice,
Laird’s,
from
the
doorway
called
to
her.
“Aunt
Aggie?”

“Hmm?”

Tavish
sat
up
abruptly
and
shook
his
head,
but
Laird
continued.
“He
was
listening
on
the
stairs.”

“Laird!”

“She
needed
to
know.
Sometimes
you
have
to
choose
between
doing
what
will
hurt
someone
now
or
what
will
hurt
them
for
a
long
time.”

Fresh
sobs
wracked
Tavish’s
body,
but
this
time,
hot
tears
fell
as
well.
“Daddy
used
to
say
that.”

“Well,
now
I
see
why.
It’s
true.”

Aggie
chose
to
ignore
the
brewing
argument
and
focus
on
the
overheard
conversation.
“What
did
you
hear,
Tavish?”

“You
said
that
after
twenty-four
hours…”

Every
song
she’d
ever
sung
to
comfort
herself
seemed
just
out
of
grasp.
Every
verse
that
had
ever
admonished
and
rebuked
her
crashed
down
on
her
head.
She
was
drowning
in
her
own
condemnation
and
didn’t
know
how
to
swim
to
the
top
to
be
free.

“Did
you
stay?
Did
you
hear
what
William
said?”

“No.”

“He
said
that
the
majority
of
children
who
go
missing
are
returned
alive—safe.
We
have
to
trust
that
Ellie
will
return.
We
have
to.”

“What
if
she
doesn’t?”

Her
eyes
closed
once
more
as
if
to
block
out
the
idea.
She
swallowed,
took
a
deep
breath,
and
swallowed
again.
“Tavish,
I
can’t
think
about
that
right
now.
Right
now,
I
need
to
focus
on
what
I
can
do
to
keep
the
rest
of
you
safe
and
to
help
bring
her
home.
If
the
Lord
shows
us
that
she’s
not
coming
back,
well,
we’ll
deal
with
that
then.”

“She’s
my
sister!”

Aggie’s
spine
grew
rigid.
She
sat
up,
squared
her
shoulders,
and
gripped
the
boy’s
face
by
his
chin.
“Look
at
me,
young
man.
Yes,
she
is
your
sister;
you
may
even
be
closer
to
her
than
the
rest
of
us,
but
you
are
not
alone
in
your
pain.
Vannie
was
a
mini
mommy
to
both
of
you.
She’s
Laird’s
first
baby
sister.
She’s
the
others’
older
sister
and
they
love
her
dearly.
She’s
my
niece—my
wonderful
big
sister’s
daughter—”
Her
voice
cracked,
fresh
tears
falling
down
her
face.
“She’s
my
daughter
now—just
as
if
I’d
given
birth
and
raised
her.
She’s
Luke’s
beloved
little
Ellie.
Don’t
you
dare
act
as
if
your
pain
is
somehow
superior
to
ours.
You
get
under
those
covers.
Turn
out
that
light.
And
you
pray.
Pray
for
that
little
girl.
Pray
that
God
would
give
the
police
wisdom.
Pray
that
whoever
has
her
will
repent
and
bring
her
back
to
us.”