Chapter 46

Iris

Arthur and I don’t hesitate. I’m not even sure if I properly set my glass down on the bar before I’m taking off, or if it falls to the floor and shatters behind me. We shove our way through the crowd, ignoring strange looks and murmurs of confusion as we rush toward the door.

At this moment, I don’t care if our identities are recognized and everything goes to shit. Only one thought is on my mind, piercing through every thought.

Miles is missing.

As soon as we jump into the car, Ezra screeches away from the curb. The pouring rain obscures the street, turning the amber street lights blurry and the asphalt shiny as he barrels down the road.

“Do you know where he went?” I ask frantically, gripping the seat in front of me.

Ezra shakes his head, and I feel like I’m going to throw up. Meanwhile, Arthur is silent, his face ashen. He must have ripped off his mask and glasses at some point, or maybe they fell off during our mad dash out of the gallery.

We arrive back at the apartment building after what feels like an eternity, although it’s only a few minutes with how fast Ezra is driving. Cliff and Augustine are standing in the lobby. Cliff’s hat is gone, his silvery hair mussed from running his hands through it, and Augustine is sobbing openly.

“What happened?” Arthur barks, skidding to a halt in front of them.

Cliff wrings his hands. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Arthur,” he says, sounding panicked. “We were playing with Miles in Augustine’s apartment, and I heard noises in the lobby. One of the residents twisted her ankle and I went to help her.”

Augustine hiccups and continues, “I-I… It’s all my fault…”

“Augustine,” I say, trying not to sound too angry as I move toward her, “what happened?”

She scrunches up her face. “I… I got distracted,” she says, shaking her head. “I went to check on the woodstove and forgot he was there. Next thing I knew, twenty minutes had passed, and… and…”

“Miles was already gone when I returned,” Cliff adds.

Arthur and I turn to look at each other, stunned. Arthur stares at me for a moment in shock and dismay before he turns to Ezra. “Call the police. Now.”

“They’ve already been contacted,” Ezra says with a nod. “They should be here soon.”

I shake my head. “Arthur, I’m not waiting for the cops to arrive and take our statements and go through the whole rigmarole of reporting him missing. I’m going to look for him.”

Arthur’s eyes widen. “Iris, it’s pouring rain. What if he—”

But I’m not listening. “Fuck the rain!” I bark, turning on my heel and striding toward the door. I’m still wearing my cocktail gown and heels, but I don’t care if they get ruined. All I care about is my son.

I burst out into the stormy night, turning this way and that as I try to discern where Miles might have gone. There’s a kids’ park to the left of the building, so I start in that direction, figuring that Miles might have thought it would be a good idea to play in the storm.

Arthur chases after me, his voice nearly drowned out by the rain. “Iris! Iris, wait up!”

I don’t wait, of course. But Arthur catches up anyway, joining in my search. We scan the playground from high to low, searching everywhere—under the jungle gym, inside the slide, even in tree branches.

“He’s not here!” I call out, turning to Arthur.

Arthur nods, his face grim, and we move on. I’m not sure what drives me in the direction I choose—a mother’s instinct, I suppose. Or maybe just sheer panic is what sets me moving with no real location in mind. Either way, I don’t slow down, not even as I cross the street and Arthur just barely manages to pull me back by my wrist as a car, not seeing me in the rain, speeds by.

“He can’t have gone far,” Arthur says as we hurry across the street once the coast is clear. “Not in this rain.”

I shoot Arthur a glance, and I can tell we both don’t fully believe that statement.

Over the next twenty minutes, Arthur and I rush through the neighborhood, scanning every nook and cranny for Miles. We knock on doors, check under cars, scream Miles’ name until our throats are raw.

This is familiar, I realize as we search. Too familiar.

Once, two years ago when I first hired Miles’ babysitter in Bo’Arrocan, he pulled a similar stunt. He hated her at first, and got so upset when I left him with her one night that he ran off and she couldn’t catch him. He thought he could find me if he ran far enough, but he just wound up getting lost.

The police had to put an amber alert out, and we searched for hours. Finally, we found him crouched behind a dumpster outside a nearby business… laughing.

He thought we were playing hide and seek.

Suddenly, I stop, my eyes widening. I begin to turn around frantically, trying to discern where I might hide if I were Miles.

Arthur skids to a halt beside me, the rain plastering his dark hair to his forehead. “Iris, what are you doing?” he shouts over the noise.

“If you were a five year old boy, where would you hide during hide and seek?” I ask.

Arthur furrows his brow, but I don’t have time to explain. He looks around, then points to a nearby trail leading into a small park nearby. We begin rushing in that direction, and all the while, I’m cursing beneath the sound of the rain.

“I’m a horrible mother!” I grit out, pushing soaked strands of hair out of my eyes as we run. “This happened once before, and I should have known it would happen again!”

Arthur frowns. “What do you mean!”

Stomach clenching, I explain the situation with the babysitter. His face goes pale as I speak. “I thought he liked Cliff and Augustine enough to stay with them, but I was wrong,” I say, my voice trembling. “And I couldn’t bring him to that exhibition, but I had to go—I needed the money! I thought it would be for his own good!”

Suddenly, Arthur turns to me, his chest heaving. “You need the money that badly? Iris, why didn’t you tell me?”

I hesitate, suddenly realizing what I’ve just admitted to. “I—”

“I could have helped you!” Arthur goes on, shaking his head. “If you needed the money that badly, I would have given it to you!”

“But I don’t want your money!” I snarl back, my voice harsher than I intend. My hands clench into fists at my sides as I whirl to face him. “If I let you help me financially, then you’d just use it against me down the road! You’d try to take Miles or force me to get back together with you!”

Arthur pauses, his mouth hanging open. A look of hurt that I’ve never seen before crosses his face, and something about it makes a pang shoot through my chest. It’s only now that I realize that it’s not just rain that’s coating my cheeks, but tears, too.

Suddenly, the sound of a cry rips through the park.

“Mommy!”

“Miles!” I scream.

Arthur and I both turn, racing toward the sound. We follow it down the park trail and toward the sound of rushing water. My heart leaps into my throat as we come to an abrupt halt alongside a low, concrete wall. Below, dark, muddy water is rushing through a flume.

And that’s precisely where the screaming is coming from.

Gasping, we lean over the wall to see a fallen tree wedged in between the concrete walls of the flume. And on it, shivering and barely hanging on, is Miles’ small form.