Grimacing, he tried to focus on the chatter filtering through the walkie-talkies nearby. It was a little after 10:00 a.m., and the search for Wren continued. Volunteers and trained staff from emergency services had canvassed Opportunity.
The women’s peaceful and serene presence reminded him that people were not only searching but also praying.
“Thank you.” He cleared his throat, battling back the emotion that threatened to take him down. He had to stay strong, though. They were going on twenty-six hours since he’d discovered Wren was missing. Doubt had weaseled its way in, picking at him, filling his head with horrifying thoughts. Where could one little four-year-old hide for a whole day?
The canine team and their handlers approached with their panting dogs. Levi averted his gaze. His mother picked her way across the dew-soaked grass, carrying a breakfast sandwich wrapped in paper from Riverside Café.
“You need to eat, honey. Keep your strength up.”
He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Thanks, Mom.” He took the sandwich, but his stomach roiled. Almost like he’d forgotten how to eat—how to do much of anything, really, since Wren had vanished. All he could think about was how scared Wren would be if a German shepherd came at her with its pink tongue lolling. But they said the dogs were the best resource they had. He couldn’t argue with that.
A van with the words Swift Water Rescue Team on the side pulled up to the curb.
He had to turn away and choke back a sob. “Oh, sweetheart.” His mother looped her arm around his waist. “I know this is hard.”
“She can’t be in the river, Mom,” his voice rasped as he squeezed the words out. “She just can’t be.”
“We’re praying that she’s safe and that she is just holed up somewhere,” Mom said, her eyes glassy with tears.
“But why? Why would she hide? Is this because of me? Is it something I’ve said?”
“Nonsense. You’re a bright spot in that little girl’s world. We don’t know why little children who’ve seen trauma do what they do,” she said. “Kids run off all the time.”
He scoffed. “Not all the time. We never ran away.”
“Oh, sure you did. You and your brothers built a fort, camped out there and refused to come home. Then Nyla went to your grandparents’ house because I wouldn’t let her buy a red lipstick in second grade.”
“Wait.” He set the coffee and breakfast sandwich down on the table nearby. “Why didn’t we think of that? Has anyone looked at Grandma and Grandpa’s house yet?”
Mom’s eyes searched his. “What are you saying?”
He wiped at his nose with the back of his hand, then fumbled in his pockets for his phone.
“When we find her—because we will find her—I hope she’ll be able to tell you why. But you cannot lose hope,” Mom reminded him.
“It’s so hard keeping track of all the details.” He turned in a circle, looking for the team lead handling the search for the day. “Are we sure someone looked in the barn?”
Mom’s brow furrowed. “I—I don’t know. Let’s get you some water.”
She turned and retrieved a bottle from the dozens people had donated. Food had piled up on a card table nearby. Women stood in a circle near the swings, holding hands, heads bowed.
He hadn’t slept for more than a couple of hours since Wren had disappeared. Fatigue clung to him, and his eyes burned. But how could he rest when she was still missing? Between the volunteers who were praying, the men and women who’d been searching around the clock, and now the volunteers from the fire department and the police station who had joined forces to search, there was no way they would leave even one single fort or shed or pile of rocks unturned.
Except he couldn’t shake the niggling thought that maybe no one had been by the barn where Wren had hung out when they’d worked on the parade float. He bowed his head and closed his weary eyes. “Lord, please. I love this little girl so much. Calm her fears. If she’s running, turn her around. Bring somebody alongside her who can guide her safely home. Amen.”
The crackle came through the radio. He heard the words, but didn’t believe them. Not at first.
“Found her.”
Then his phone rang, buried under a fleece blanket someone had dropped off earlier. His mom’s phone hummed with an incoming text. The news spread in rings and tones and gasps of surprise, like church bells chiming on a Sunday morning. Relieved smiles turned his way, and suddenly he was being swarmed.
“Levi, they found her! They found Wren. Did you hear?”
People slapped him on the back, patted his cheeks, then grabbed his elbow and hauled him toward a strange vehicle as it stopped in the middle of the street.
“They found her. Levi, you’ll never believe where,” someone said.
Nyla stepped out. Then the back door opened slowly, and Wren scrambled out. His breath left his lungs in a desperate gust of shock. She ran toward him, tears streaming down her filthy face and her little arms outstretched.
“Wren!” He scooped her up and whirled her around. “You’re back. I’m so glad. Oh, thank God.”
“I’m sorry, Lee-by. I’m really sorry.” She sobbed into his shoulder.
“It’s okay, sweetie. I’m just so glad you’ve been found.” He leaned away and smoothed her hair from her eyes. “Can you tell me why you ran away?”
Shame flitted across her face, and she dipped her chin.
“You can tell me. I won’t be angry,” he said softly.
“I heard you say to your mom that Sabby was gone, and I got scared and mad ’cuz I need her. After you went to sleep, I sneaked away.”
Oh. Her words pierced him. You’re not the only one who needs Savvy, kiddo. “I’m sorry that you had to hear about Savannah leaving that way. Next time you hear something that scares you, please come to me, okay?”
She nodded. “’Kay.”
“Who found you?”
“Sabby did, silly.” Wren swiped her hand across her face and twisted in his arms and pointed.
