Arthur and I don’t hesitate. I’m not even sure if I properly set my glass down on the bar before I’m taking off, or if it falls to the floor and shatters behind me. We shove our way through the crowd, ignoring strange looks and murmurs of confusion as we rush toward the door.
At this moment, I don’t care if our identities are recognized and everything goes to shit. Only one thought is on my mind, piercing through every thought.
Miles is missing.
As soon as we jump into the car, Ezra screeches away from the curb. The pouring rain obscures the street, turning the amber street lights blurry and the asphalt shiny as he barrels down the road.
“Do you know where he went?” I ask frantically, gripping the seat in front of me.
Ezra shakes his head, and I feel like I’m going to throw up. Meanwhile, Arthur is silent, his face ashen. He must have ripped off his mask and glasses at some point, or maybe they fell off during our mad dash out of the gallery.
We arrive back at the apartment building after what feels like an eternity, although it’s only a few minutes with how fast Ezra is driving. Cliff and Augustine are standing in the lobby. Cliff’s hat is gone, his silvery hair mussed from running his hands through it, and Augustine is sobbing openly.
“What happened?” Arthur barks, skidding to a halt in front of them.
Cliff wrings his hands. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Arthur,” he says, sounding panicked. “We were playing with Miles in Augustine’s apartment, and I heard noises in the lobby. One of the residents twisted her ankle and I went to help her.”
Augustine hiccups and continues, “I–I… It’s all my fault…”
“Augustine,” I say, trying not to sound too angry as I move toward her, “what happened?”
She scrunches up her face. “I… I got distracted,” she says, shaking her head. “I went to check on the woodstove and forgot he was there. Next thing I knew, twenty minutes had passed, and… and…”
“Miles was already gone when I returned,” Cliff adds.
Arthur and I turn to look at each other, stunned. Arthur stares at me for a moment in shock and dismay before he turns to Ezra. “Call the police. Now.”
“They’ve already been contacted,” Ezra says with a nod. “They should be here soon.”
I shake my head. “Arthur, I’m not waiting for the cops to arrive and take our statements and go through the whole rigmarole of reporting him missing. I’m going to look for him.”
Arthur’s eyes widen. “Iris, it’s pouring rain. What if he-”
But I’m not listening. “Fuck the rain!” I bark, turning on my heel and striding toward the door. I’m still wearing my cocktail gown and heels, but I don’t care if they get ruined. All I care about is my son.
I burst out into the stormy night, turning this way and that as I try to discern where Miles might have gone. There’s a kids‘ park to the left of the building, so I start in that direction, figuring that Miles might have thought it would be a good idea to play in the storm.
Arthur chases after me, his voice nearly drowned out by the rain. “Iris! Iris, wait up!”
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Chapter 78
I don’t wait, of course. But Arthur catches up anyway, joining in my search. We scan the playground from high to low, searching everywhere–under the jungle gym, inside the slide, even in tree branches.
“He’s not here!” I call out, turning to Arthur.
Arthur nods, his face grim, and we move on. I’m not sure what drives me in the direction I choose–a mother’s instinct, I suppose. Or maybe just sheer panic is what sets me moving with no real location in mind. Either way, I don’t slow down, not even as I cross the street and Arthur just barely manages to pull me back by my wrist as a car, not seeing me in the rain, speeds by.
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