I’m not sure how it’ll go, but I know that time is of the essence, and I’m not wasting anymore.

I walk closer and hear my mother’s voice animated and frustrated.

Please don’t let this be bad news.

“No, you can’t tell him anything.”

“I didn’t say anything to him because I wanted to talk to you first, Macie, but he has a right to know what the tests came back as,” Dr. Halpern’s voice is agitated but remains quiet. “If he sees this, he’ll know.”

“He can’t know. Do you understand, John? He can’t know, it would destroy him.”

I hang back and listen. My mother has kept quite a few secrets lately, and she’s not going to do that to my father. If there’s something going on, he and my brothers have a right to hear it.

But then I hear my father’s voice. “He doesn’t need to know. Not now.”

“I’m not tryin’ to get involved in your family business, but that boy isn’t dumb, and he’ll figure it out. It should come from you both. Before it’s too late. The test results are his to see. I can’t hide them from him.”

“Only if he asks to see them.”

“If he asks, I won’t keep them from him.”

My mother lets out a heavy sigh, and I shuffle forward a bit more, needing to know what the hell is going on. “I know. I know what you’re sayin’,” her voice shakes.

“I’m just bein’ a friend and tellin’ you that if he’s not his son, he should know.”

Every muscle in my body locks as I hang on every word. Then it hits me. Someone in our family isn’t my father’s son. Someone who wasn’t a match. There’s only one someone here who was clearly not a candidate.

This can’t be real. There’s a mistake.

“Trent is his son in every way that matters,” Mama says before falling silent for a beat. “We’d planned to tell him, but—”

“No one tells him I’m not his father.”

And the floor drops out from under me.

I’m not my father’s son.

I’m not a Hennington.

Chapter 18

Grace

“I s Trent doin’ okay back there?” I ask Mrs. Hennington as she returns from where Mr. Hennington is now receiving the transfusion.

I figured he was talking to his parents and getting things in order, but it’s been over two hours. He wasn’t in the greatest shape when he left the waiting room, and I’ve been sitting here worried sick about him.

“I haven’t seen him, sugar.”

“What? He went back there a few hours ago . . .”

Mrs. Hennington looks around. “I’ve been in the room the entire time, and I never saw him.”

I’m confused. I watched him go. “Has anyone seen Trent?” I ask, and everyone says no or shakes their head.

I grab my phone and text him.

Me: Hey. Where are you?

“I’m sure he’s in the cafeteria. Maybe go check there?” Zach suggests.

“I’ll be back.” I walk down the hall with a niggling feeling in my gut. Something’s off. Trent wouldn’t be in the cafeteria for two hours. Not when he said he was going to check on his dad.

I search the cafeteria, but he isn’t here. I check the lab and then the chapel, all with no Trent. There’s still no reply from him, and my heart starts to race.

Me: I’ve been looking for you, are you here?

“Hey.” Presley bumps into me on my way back to the waiting area. “Did you find him?

“No. He’s not anywhere.”

She grabs her phone and raises it to her ear. “Trent, I don’t know where you are, but please call me back.” Presley disconnects the phone. “I’m sure he’s fine. Maybe he went to clear his head.”

“For two hours?”

“I don’t know . . .”

“Yeah.” I sigh. “I don’t either.”

“I’m sure he’ll turn up. He could’ve gotten called for work?”

That’s possible. A call could’ve come in, and because he’s the sheriff, he would have to go. Although, I’m not totally sure that’s it. He would’ve said goodbye. I can’t put my finger on it, but my gut is telling me something is off.

We head back to the waiting room where everyone is sitting around. Everyone except him. “Did he come back?”

“No.” Wyatt shakes his head and looks around. “Anyone else see him?”

No one has, which makes the knots in my stomach twist tighter. “I’m going to head to the house and check the station.” I grab my purse and turn to the door, but Zach stops me.

“Let us know when you find him.”

I nod and shoot off another text.

Me: I’m getting worried. Please tell me you’re okay.

He doesn’t respond, and now I’m running to the car trying to figure out where Trent would have gone on foot since he didn’t drive here in his own car.

I call him three times, and all of them go straight to voice mail. No text messages back, nothing. This isn’t like him. Even when he would pull away, it was never radio silence. And if it were a work thing, he’d have texted me back.

I pass the station, and his squad car sits in the lot, but he is not there. The deputy on duty hasn’t seen him but promised to let me know if he hears from him, which isn’t very helpful.

This is crazy.

My mind reels as fear starts to take hold. I don’t know where he is or if something is wrong. After the way he was in the hospital, I can’t imagine him taking off like this.

I go to his house, and his truck isn’t there either.

Shit.

I check inside, just in case, and nothing is missing or moved. Where the hell did he go?

There’s no telling why he left like that. I call Presley, giving her the rundown of all the places Trent isn’t. Before I hang up, I let her know to tell everyone I’m headed home to wait for him and I’ll call if I find him.

All I can do now is hope for the best.

* * *

I t’s been fifteen hours and no sign of Trent. I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve called him. He must’ve shut his phone off because it doesn’t even ring anymore.