By eight that evening, I began to worry.
I called her.
No answer.
At ten, I tried again.
Nothing.
Midnight came.
Jennifer woke crying, which woke Lizzie, and for the next forty minutes I walked circles through the living room with one baby against my shoulder while gently rocking the other carrier with my foot.
At two in the morning, my phone finally rang.
Kayla.
I answered immediately.
“Where are you?”
Music thumped somewhere behind her.
Not traffic.
Not a grocery store.
Music.
She sounded strangely calm.
“I’ve been doing some thinking.”
Something about her voice made my stomach knot.
“Thinking about what?”
“My future.”
I looked across the room.
Jennifer had finally fallen asleep.
Lizzie’s tiny fist rested beside her cheek.
“When are you coming back for the girls?”
There was a pause.
Then Kayla said quietly, “I’m not.”
For several seconds, I
genuinely thought I had misunderstood her.
