“I’m going to be honest here, Ally. You have to talk to her. For over fifteen years, she’s been searching for you. You’re her daughter. If Jan, Julia, or Don went missing for even a day …” He clears his throat. “Well, it’s been hard to persuade her to stay away so far. She wants to be on the next plane here.”

“Wait a second. You talked to her?”

He nods. “She asked to speak to someone who knew you. She was so happy to hear what an amazing young woman you’ve grown into. But she really wants to see you. I told her that you’d call her today. She’s waiting by the phone.”

I can’t call her. I can’t. Talking to her would mean that I’m somewhat accepting what’s happened.

Sheriff Gleason sighs. “This has to be incredibly tough, but your mom—”

“She’s not my mom,” I bark.

“I understand—I can see your side,” he clarifies. “But she is also innocent in this.”

“Is she really?” I fire back. “There must have been a reason my dad took me from her. Maybe, just maybe, she’s not this completely innocent person. Besides, this is my home. I’ve never even been to Florida. Oh.”

I keep forgetting that I was born there. I lived there for my first three years. I try to picture life in the sun. There has to be a memory of being there. A memory of her.

But there’s nothing.

“Sheriff Gleason, I really, really need to talk to my dad.”

He takes a deep breath. “I’ve got one more piece of bad news.”

“Jesus Christ,” slips out.

“On Monday at the hearing, the prosecutor is going to request a no-contact order.”

“What does that mean?”

“That you won’t be able to communicate with your father. No talking, no letters, nothing.”

“For how long?” I ask.

“I don’t know. Probably not until the trial is over and he’s been sentenced.”

“How long can that take?”

“A few months.”

I grab my jacket. “Well, then, let’s go talk to him now.” I open the front door and stare Sheriff Gleason down. He hesitates a moment before standing and following me out the door.

I don’t care what a judge says. I need to see my dad. I need to look him in the eye, and I need him to tell me what happened.

I deserve answers. I need the truth.

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter

FIFTEEN

I jump at the buzzing sound as the doors open to the room where I’ll be talking to Dad.

The room is concrete, with bright fluorescent lights overhead. Based on my TV-and-movie-watching experience, I’m surprised there isn’t two-way glass on any of the walls.