Strayed by Katherine Bitner

Author:Katherine Bitner [Bitner, Katherine]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2024-02-20T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter twenty-four

“Ouch!” I scream, waking up to a throbbing in my head.

I had another nightmare, one that resulted in me flailing my arms and sitting straight up, knocking my head against the cabinet above my head. Tears stain my cheeks, and my chest hurts. The dream was so real. Opie was there. It was so vivid. I could smell the pine trees, feel the dampness on my skin. I was in the woods, following Opie. He started walking faster until he was running, and I was too, chasing him until he entered a fog and everything disappeared in it.

It’s the third time I’ve had that same dream, and I’m sick of waking up in a cold sweat.

Quickly showering, I let the water wash away the feeling of dread over today. Before leaving, I add my tips from last night to the envelope labeled with Foster’s name on it. I’ve counted the tips from my savings jar three times already today. Every dollar and quarter are accounted for. All the tips I’ve been squirreling away in the glass jar labeled Callie & Opie’s Great Escape.

I find myself, still with wet hair from my shower, sitting in my car, ready to go. It’s early, but I can’t sit idle. I text Foster and ask him if I can come now, though I know the answer is yes. He is up with the sun, he says.

My emotions about Opie have been as tumultuous as the ocean the last two days. Today marks day eight since he’s been missing. I thought by now he’d be spotted, and every minute that passes adds to my anxious heart and angry mind.

I even stayed up last night considering adding a reward for his safe-finding, but then I broke down in tears, realizing that’s impossible. I don’t have a single cent to my name that’s not already being siphoned into finding him.

When Foster told me last night that he needed to talk to me, I assumed the worst. But now that the time has come, the idea of going to his house alone to talk terrifies me. With my fingers hovering over my phone screen, I open my messages, then close my phone. Only to repeat it, but this time, I quickly type out a message to Levi and hit send before I can come to terms with the truth about how I feel about him.

Because it’s snuck up on me.

They say in times of crisis, you cling to an anchor, and somewhere along the way this past week, Levi’s became my anchor.

So I asked him if he would come with me to Foster’s. I don’t go into why I asked him because going into that house does nothing but stir up guilt, and I need a buffer. I need a ray of sunshine for the clouds I’m about to walk into. But why doesn’t apparently seem to matter to Levi because he texts me back a few minutes later saying, “Of course. I’ll pick you up in fifteen.

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