Chapter 147

Still hours before sunset, I paced. I couldn't sleep. I hated the unfairness of daylight because it was such a disadvantage. And every passing hour was a reminder that there were children out there, missing, terrified, cold children I hoped with every dead cell in my body were still alive.

"Belle."

I whirled from the living room window, which was fully draped, a tad jumpy.

Sawyer stood next to the Christmas tree, its twinkling lights reflecting off of his still-damp hair. "Sniffing the drapes?"

"They smell like raisins for some reason, which makes me feel disappointed, like when I see cookies and immediately think they're chocolate chip." I sighed like this was the most tragic thing ever. "Curtains should smell like chocolate chips."

He rolled his lips to fight back a smile. "Are you okay?"

"No." My shoulders sagged. "I feel useless."