Page 119 of Broken

I looked closely at the parked cars and the few still driving as I drove through Breaker Ridge, watching closely for any vehicle that could pass for the twins’ beat-up truck. I’d driven past just about every building and road that I thought might’ve had any kind of significance to Izzy, but there was no sign of her.

I couldn’t let myself get discouraged, though. I had to find her. Iwouldfind her. I still had to make things right.

So, where else could she be?

An idea hit me then that I was surprised I hadn’t thought of before, and I pulled a wide U-turn in the middle of the empty street, rushing now across town.

Stopping along the tire-worn path, I jumped out, almost not bothering to reach out and shut my door. I took off, weaving through the stones that were spaced in rows along the ground, running as fast as I could to the place that I hadn’t yet been able to make myself go.

Winded, the pressure in my ribs raw, I came to a stop by my daughter’s grave, her grandpa’s right beside hers. Izzy wasn’t there, but I dropped to my knees as an ache tore at my heart. Forcing myself, for her, I lifted my gaze to the small plaque that would match her headstone.

ZOEY FAYE PIERCE

DECEMBER 16, 2023

SWEET DAUGHTER AND GRANDDAUGHTER

TOO PRECIOUS FOR EARTH

Tears ran silently down my face, but I knew I had to pull myself together. “I’m so sorry, baby girl. I have to go find your mommy,” I whispered before standing up to leave.

Rushing back, I jumped in my truck the second I reached it and turned the ignition, throwing on my seatbelt as I tore away from the cemetery. My heart in shreds, I pressed my mind for anything that might lead me the right way.

Church?It was worth a try, and I turned into the drive just down the road. Maybe she’d needed to take solace there. I was tempted myself if I was honest. Circling the large, white building, I looked for any sign of the old Ford that would tell meIzzy could be here, but no, and at a loss again, I pulled back onto the main road, refusing to give up.

ISABEL

I walked in the same direction I’d been driving, fighting against the backward pull of the wind that blew the thin silk of my pajamas against my skin. Shivering violently as I walked, each time I regretted my haste that left me without a jacket or my phone.

At least I’d made it out with a shoe on my foot.

Not too long after I left the protection of my truck, I reached the stretch of beach, my boot feeling clunky and awkward in the gritty, cold sand. My heart throbbed mercilessly in my chest, overwhelming.

But the pull I felt here was strong, and I didn’t care anymore about reaching a phone, simply following where my steps led me instead. They seemed to know where I wanted to be. My mind sure couldn’t tell me.

The edges screamed in protest.

The cold sunk deeper as I drew closer to the pier, that significant stretch of sand just steps away. Drawn to the water, I stopped at the edge of its torrential beauty, the surface broken and choppy. The breeze from the ocean chilled me to the point where my broken bones tingled and ached, but what was more important was how I could feel the numbness slowly coming back. I waited for it to return, anxious for it to take over so Iwouldn’t have to feel this wretched pain that tore at my heart. But it never did. Not completely.

Instead, the pain was deadened just enough that I found it bearable to think about what had sent me into my destructive overload. I wondered for a moment what it would feel like in those waves, to step into them and have them thrash around me as my emotions so desperately wished to do, but I dismissed it quickly. I had no desire to die.

Realizing this, I sank down against the large, wooden post of the pier, drawing my knees up to clutch them to my chest as the ocean’s tide played tauntingly around me. The urge to cry crept in again, but I was afraid it might make the numbness fade, so I resisted and let my mind wander to where I couldn’t before.

Daddy had said the parent goes first, and in our case, it was true. It was completely unfair that my dad had to leave when he was young, still in his thirties, but at least the order of it was right. What aboutmychild?

What was I supposed to do when the order had been forcefully reversed? I hadn’t even gotten to meet my baby. Was it supposed to hurt less because I hadn’t? I didn’t see how. I’d loved her from the moment I knew she was there, growing inside me.

I slid a hand against my now flat stomach and winced at the jolt I felt in my chest. My little one was no longer a part of me, and I wasn’t sure how I’d ever get past knowing my daughter would have been a beautiful, healthy human being in just a few months’ time if I hadn’t been so stupid and careless. How I’d ever get past it all without Tucker.

I wondered what Daddy would say. He’d mentioned how he’d be waiting on the other side to give thatspecial guya piece of his mind if he didn’t appreciate my heart, but what would he say to me now that he knew it wasn’t the guy that had hurt me? I had hurthim. Maybe he’d tell me what I deserved to hear that no onehere seemed willing to say. That I was a murderer. A murderer to my child, Tucker’s heart, and our relationship.

I deserved everything I got.

Except for that money. It wouldn’t have solved everything, no more than the trust fund that Tucker was supposed to get would have. We would’ve still been forced to make sacrifices, but the benefits were hard to ignore. I wouldn’t have felt like a parasite, feeding off of and depending on Tucker to get by. We could havebothprovided for our daughter. Together.

Now, that money could just sit there and serve as a reminder of what I had done. I didn’t want it.

I’d ruined absolutely everything, because how could our group survive with Tucker and I at odds? Things could never be the same again, a thought that was all too crippling to bear.