10
When I get on the highway, I crack open the window to let the warm Florida air in and draw in a deep breath, reflecting on how lucky I was that my desperate ‘grab a gun and kidnap Grandpa’ plan actually worked.
Now I need to make sure my mom, Lucy, is all right. Pulling out Caleb’s phone, I put in her number from memory. Her current cell number is what used to be our household’s landline, back when my moms lived in the city. That’s a number I’ll never forget, and I’m grateful to her for keeping it. I’m terrible at remembering phone numbers these days.
The call goes straight to voicemail. I’m guessing that means she’s on the phone and doesn’t want to interrupt her conversation for an unknown caller. Or at least I’m hoping that’s the case. I refuse to think of other possibilities. I’ll
