Chapter 13

Rachelle struggled to grasp the gravity of Marissa's words. Celine and their father caught on instantaneously, though. Celine clasped her mouth in shock as tears cascaded down her cheeks, seeping through her fingers. Mr. Grier leaped up so violently his chair tumbled back, clattering to the floor with a resounding crash.

"Kidnapped?" he echoed, disbelief coloring his voice. "Is she certain? Could it be a mix-up, maybe they just set off for—"

His words hung unfinished as Marissa negated them with a weary shake of her head, her body swaying precariously. "No. She's certain."

Rachelle's ears rang with the sound of her father's panicked inquiries directed at Marissa, but the room and the voices spun around her. The once cozy kitchen felt glaringly bright and stiflingly warm.

Desperate for escape, Rachelle brushed past Marissa while dismissing her father's anxious calls and burst outside. She took deep gulps of the cool nighttime air but found no relief. An unfamiliar restlessness propelled her; she needed to get away from here, anywhere would do. She fumbled with the gate latch—a task that had never posed a challenge before—and raced into the street. Her feet slapped against the cold asphalt in barefooted urgency; pain shot up her legs—a welcome distraction from an inconceivable reality.

Reaching the stop sign at Gardham Street's end, Rachelle whirled around to head back only to slow down almost immediately. Overwhelmed emotionally more than physically, she could hardly breathe; an unseen force seemed to tighten around her lungs preventing their full expansion. Tears streamed unchecked down her face in silent testimony to her inner turmoil.

Denial rose within Rachelle like a tide; there had to be other explanations for Juliette and Hunter's absence—ordinary ones like an impromptu elopement as Celine had jokingly suggested earlier on. That must be it.

Her thoughts disengaged from reality; Rachelle barely noticed returning home, finding herself standing numbly outside it without recollection of the walk back. Unable to face entering the house again so soon without understanding or accepting what had happened, she stalled.

Across the street, Rachell's gaze landed involuntarily on the Moorehouses' residence—it felt oddly right to seek refuge there despite their strained past and the weeks since she'd last spoken properly with Taylor. Disregarding their history completely, Rachelle dashed up their porch steps.

With tear-streaked cheeks and no regard for composure or decorum, she hammered on their door ferociously.

"Taylor!" Her voice was a desperate plea punctuated by relentless knocks and even kicks for emphasis. "TAYLOR MOOREHOUSE OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!"

Her barrage against the Moores' doorway didn't cease until it swung open revealing Nolan in his pajama bottoms, gawking at her messy state in astonishment.

"Nolan!" Rachelle's voice pierced through the calm, laced with alarm. She brushed by him without a second glance. Taylor stood frozen, controller hanging from his fingertips—he and Nolan had been in the throes of an epic FIFA showdown—his features mirroring his brother's shock.

Without hesitation, Rachelle lunged for Taylor, her embrace knocking the breath from him. Her tears soaked his shirt as she desperately clung to him. Taylor responded, at first hesitant, then with firm assurance, his arms encompassing her trembling form. His hand caressed her hair while his lips tenderly met the crown of her head.

Time seemed to evaporate around them. Rachelle's tears continued unabated despite her brave attempt to compose herself, prompting Nolan to interject with an awkward cough.

"What's wrong, Rachelle?" he probed gently.

Words eluded Rachelle; she could barely muster a headshake against Taylor's shoulder. But silence wasn't an option—not after weeks of distance from both brothers. The need for explanation weighed heavy on her.

"Juliette...she went to Rosedale...to meet...Hunter," she managed through stifled sobs—a fragmented confession. "And...and they were..." Overcome with emotion, she succumbed once more to grief's grip.

Taylor regarded her tear-streaked face and tenderly wiped away the droplets, though it seemed a futile gesture as they kept streaming. Rachelle couldn't help but feel mortified about dampening his shirt collar.

"Was it an accident?" Taylor inquired, voice soft as a whisper.

A vehement shake of Rachelle's head conveyed the graver truth—"They were taken."

At her revelation, Taylor's grip faltered in disbelief before he clasped her close again with newfound intensity and whispered a string of expletives that reflected the gravity of the situation.

Nolan departed wordlessly but with a sense of urgency that shook the room's foundation as he bolted towards the Grier residence.

Only when Rachelle's tears had all but deserted her did she notice Taylor's eyes—red and glistening. "You should head home," he urged softly, brushing stray curls from her dampened face.

"Okay," she whispered back tremulously. "But don't leave me alone—come with me?"

Taylor needed no persuading; he was already by her side as they traversed the quiet space between their houses. And while Rachelle wanted nothing more than to believe this was all an elaborate nightmare soon to be dismantled by Juliette's mocking words, reality crashed over them like a cold wave as they entered the family kitchen once more.

Her knees gave out beneath her at the sight of empty chairs where Juliette should have been. Yet before she could collapse to the ground, Taylor was there again—her steadying anchor in a storm-tossed sea.

Celine and Marissa sat close, clinging to one another at the table, their tears mingling. In another corner of the kitchen, Nolan was making an attempt to converse with Mr. Grier, who seemed lost in thought as he gazed out of the window overlooking the yard. Rachelle watched, doubting Mr. Grier was truly hearing any of it.

Nolan's voice was firm but gentle. "Mr. Grier, let me drive you down to Rosedale. It's not safe for you to drive right now - not for any of us."

Mr. Grier's voice sounded distant, disconnected. "What? Oh, no... I can handle it." His eyes never left the view outside.

Persistence in his tone, Nolan pressed on. "My folks will entertain Michael and Kitty - they'll be in safe hands."

A slow nod from Mr. Grier came as an agreement. His thoughts seemed to snag on another concern. "And... Ella? She deserves to know... someone needs to break it to her."

Ella's name brought out a choked cry from Rachelle; her younger sister remained oblivious to the catastrophe.

Nolan's offer came softly, with empathy woven through his words. "I could help Ella understand," he proposed gently. Nolan had this knack for soothing Ella when the world turned upside down - if Ella were along for the ride, it made perfect sense that Nolan should be driving – he was a pillar of support for her.

Complete turmoil took over the next minutes - Taylor supporting Rachelle into a chair, shepherding Michael and Kitty back with him; Mr. Grier accepting heartfelt sympathies from Mr. Moorehouse over the phone; reassurances that the children were in capable hands floated through the air.

Then Ella appeared, visibly upset and confused, and Nolan led her away for a quiet conversation in the living room about Juliette and Hunter.

The strain in Ella's voice drew Rachelle from her seat; gathering every ounce of courage she possessed, she assisted Nolan with explaining their absence.

Ella's reaction was visceral - she bolted into Rachelle's arms seeking solace.

"What is Nolan telling me? Where have Juliette and Hunter been taken?" Her voice trembled with fear.

The truth came out as a whisper from Rachelle's lips: "We're not sure yet, darling."

"And will they be okay?"

"We're not sure about that either," Rachelle admitted amidst restrained sobs.

Ella's tears were relentless now. "What if they never find them?"

Rachelle's reply came through a veil of hope threaded with uncertainty: "They have to find them," she choked out, seeking affirmation.

"Yeah," Nolan chimed in, but his certainty faltered too. It struck Rachelle just then—Nolan Moorehouse looked scared for the first time ever.