Chapter 62: Miranda

I'd tried to stay at work yesterday, but after talking to Sarah, I was pretty much useless. Eason had brought me home about an hour after we'd gotten to the office, and he hadn't let me out of his sight since. I drew the line when he followed me into the bathroom. I wasn't suicidal. I was just a basket case. Worried about my daddy, dreading stepping foot in Mason Belle, fearful of what the next twenty-four hours would bring-it made for an emotional mess that Eason wasn't accustomed to seeing.

The sound of the zipper on my suitcase echoed around me. There was finality around that noise. I wasn't in the same room, nor were these the same circumstances, yet the low-frequency zing of metal combining with metal brought on the same anxiety as it had the day I'd left Texas. But Eason didn't let me linger in it.

He grabbed the handle of my luggage and pulled it off the mattress. "Are you ready?"