Whispers of a Broken Halo by Abbi Glines

Nothing could wipe the smile off my face—or at least, that was how it had felt until I pulled onto the main street to see Bryn walking into Signed Sips. Henley hadn’t mentioned Bryn had been coming in for coffee. I wanted to drive on by and forget about it, but Henley was my sister. I had to protect her from things she didn’t understand.

Pulling the Jeep into a parking spot right out front, I closed the door a little too loudly, frustrated that Bryn Wallace wouldn’t stay out of my life. What would it take to make her stay away? Didn’t she know by now that Henley was my sister? She wasn’t an idiot. She should know I didn’t want her around my family.

Stalking inside, I saw the boy first. He was small and huddled close to Bryn with one arm wrapped around her leg, his other hand holding a doughnut much like the one I had eaten, except his had sprinkles on it. Henley’s gaze swung from Bryn to mine, and I saw the warning there.

“I’ve not seen her walk by all morning, but I will keep my eyes open. Do you want to leave Cullen with me while you search?” Henley asked.

The boy pressed closer to Bryn’s leg and then buried his face in her thigh, as if the idea of her leaving him was terrifying. Bryn looked down at him, then she glanced back to see who had entered the shop. Her eyes widened when they met mine, and she turned back to Henley quickly.

“Thank you. But that’s okay. He’s clinging pretty tightly to me. We will just go on and continue asking down the street. Thanks again for the doughnut,” Bryn said, reaching into her pocket and pulling out some money to hand to Henley, who was already shaking her head.

“It’s a gift for my favorite customer,” Henley said, smiling down at the boy.

Bryn looked down at the boy, too, and reluctantly put the money back in her pocket, glancing back at me, as if she wasn’t sure that was wise. “Thank you,” she said again, turning back to Henley.

She placed her hand on the little boy’s head. “Come on, buddy. Let’s go,” she said gently, and he let go of her leg to reach up and clasp her hand tightly.

“Wait,” Henley said. “What’s your number in case I see her?” She put a pen and piece of paper down on the counter between them.

Bryn took the pen from the counter and wrote it down on the piece of paper Henley had placed there, all the while still holding the boy’s hand. The boy kept looking back at me, then burying his face in Bryn’s thigh when I would make eye contact with him. The kid was either nervous or shy.

“Here is mine,” Henley said, handing her a business card. “My personal cell is written on the back. If you need anything, just call,” she said.

Bryn gave a short nod, then glanced at me nervously. She knew I wouldn’t want her calling Henley, and I doubted she ever would. After listening to the conversation, it was clear she was looking for Tory, and this was just one of the stores she was stopping at on her way down the street.

“How long has she been gone?” I asked her, not needing the specifics.

Tory running off was something that had been happening since she was sixteen years old.

Bryn glanced down at the boy. “She w-w-went out late after I g-g-got home from work last night.”

She was lying, or I was the only one who made her stutter these days. She hadn’t stuttered once while talking to Henley.

“She left before you got home. I heard her leave,” the boy said. “Remember I told you?”

Bryn winced and nodded her head once, then forced a smile as she looked down at the boy. “That’s right, buddy. You did.”

She’d left the kid at home alone. He couldn’t be more than three or maybe four. He was a tiny thing. How fucked up was that?

“We need to g-g-go,” she said, stepping around me and heading for the door.

I could help. I could make some calls and see if anyone had seen her last night. Bryn had the kid with her, and he didn’t need to be walking all over town, looking for his sorry-ass mother. I might have my issues with Bryn, but the kid had done nothing to me. Glancing at the time on the wall, I knew I needed to get into work, but I wasn’t going to be able to let them walk out either, searching for Tory without help.

Dammit, why had I stopped?

“Wait, let me make some calls first. See if I can help track her down without you dragging him all over.”

Bryn paused with her hand on the door. She was considering it, and for a moment, I thought she was going to tell me that she didn’t need my help. If she did, then I could let her go, and I could get to work. The little boy looked up at me, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to do that either. She was going to have to let me help her. For the kid’s sake.

“Who can you call?” she asked, finally looking back at me.

The reluctance and uncertainty in her gaze were clear. She didn’t want my help, but for the boy, she was willing to put that aside. I respected that if I respected nothing else about her.

“I know everyone. Give me a few minutes,” I told her, then walked past them, pushing the door open and heading to the parking lot. Taking my cell phone from my pocket, I dialed the first number I could think of—Drake.

He had gone out last night. He might have a lead.

He didn’t answer on the first try, but it was early for him. By the third time, he answered, and luckily, he had seen her and knew who she’d left with. It took three more calls to track her down. In less than ten minutes, I walked back into the shop to see Bryn at a table, drinking a coffee, talking to Henley and Hillya. The boy was coloring on a piece of paper with his half-eaten doughnut beside him and a cup of chocolate milk.