When her phone trilled from the bedroom, she considered letting it go to voicemail but guilt got the better of her. It’s bad enough you asked for another week. At least be available to your family if they call.

Setting the jar down, she wiped her hands on a towel and hurried out of the kitchen and into her bedroom. Sure enough, her mother’s name lit up the screen. “Morning, Mama.”

In the full second of silence, Rosie caught the faint shudder of breath. Fear punched the air out of her lungs. “Mother?”

“Darling…” Another shuddery breath. “Your father’s in surgery. He’s had a heart attack. I’m going to need you to come home.”

Heart attack? “Oh, my God.” Papa. A flurry of memories shuffled through her mind in quick succession. At dinner with her family, telling them about her embarrassing audition for the school play, and her father reaching under the table to grasp her hand and hold it firmly in his. College graduation, when her father had pulled her aside to give her a special gift—a thick envelope filled with twenty-one notes he’d secretly written to her every year on her birthday.

Twenty-one beautiful, heart-wrenching, funny notes that she’d treasure forever.

And the day she’d gotten into perfume school—one of only four students they took each year—her father had hugged her and whispered in her ear, “You’re the light of my life. I’m happy for you.”

Tears burned, and her body went hot. “Is he all right?” Please don’t let him die.

Oh, my God, please.

“He’ll pull through by the force of my will alone.” Her mother paused. “But you must come home right away.”

“I will.” Right before she disconnected, she said, “I love you, Mama.” She had so many questions, but she knew her mother was in no frame of mind to answer them. Her mind fractured, a dozen thoughts zinging out and colliding.

Pack.

Wait, no, get a flight first.

Brodie. With shaking hands, she called him, but it went straight to voicemail. “I…I need you. Can you call me, please?” He’d gone to the building site. No reception. He wouldn’t be gone long.

What if he dies? What if he never wakes up after surgery? His heart could give out this time. She hated herself for pushing him so far. She could’ve come home when he’d asked her. She should have.

Why didn’t you?

Why had she insisted on prolonging her time in Calamity? No matter what, it had to end.

Pack. She’d taken one step toward the closet before she remembered she needed a plane.

She typed out a text to Brodie. My father’s had a heart attack. I need to get home. Can I use your jet? It’s the fastest way.