Page 146 of Wicked Promises

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“I need to see it.”

Margo reaches out and hooks her index finger with mine.

She’s with me.

Mr. Black shrugs. “Okay. Let me just tell the detective that he can get Margo’s statement at the station tomorrow. I also informed the police that Amber’s whereabouts are unknown. They’re going to look for her. Wait right here, I’ll be back in a flash.”

Robert and Lenora press closer. They’d been silent up until now, blending into the background.

“Margo?” Lenora asks. “You okay, honey?”

She shrugs. “Just…”

She’s shutting down before our very eyes, but her finger is still gripping mine.

“Is it okay if Margo comes with me and Mr. Black?” I ask them. “I’ll have her home before eight.”

Margo sucks in a breath, but she doesn’t say anything.

Lenora strokes Margo’s hair. “Is that what you want?”

“I’d like to stay with Caleb,” she answers.

Mr. Black comes back. “We’re good to go.”

Margo rises, letting Robert and Lenora hug her again. She withdraws rather quickly, looping her arm through mine. She hugs my arm tightly, fingers digging into my biceps.

Worry tugs at me.

In the car, we both sit in the back seat. Eli’s dad gives me a look, but after a second of watching Margo in the rearview mirror, he nods.

I trace patterns on her leg.

“We’re going to the city?” she asks, lifting her head.

“Yes, my office is downtown,” he says. “I grabbed you a water bottle, Margo.”

I take the bottle he holds over his shoulder, and she takes a few sips.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” I whisper.

She shifts, pulling the small journal out of her pocket. “Claire never did get her hands on this.”

She flips it open, seemingly searching for something.

And then she exhales, handing it over to me.

Amber was singing today. She never mentioned having a voice, but it’s surprisingly good. I stayed out of the kitchen and closed my eyes, trying to remember the last time the house was full of happiness.

Well before I destroyed it, that’s for sure.

I asked myself if she was singing to Ben, and it almost killed me not knowing. I crept through the house and finally gave in, peeking around the corner. I felt like Caleb on one of his spy missions.

It wasn’t Ben—it was Margo. Amber had her daughter on the counter while she worked bread dough beside her.

She was singing ‘Blackbird’ by The Beatles.