CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
DREW
The chief needed extra help, and I volunteered to work on Friday. It sucks because I wanted to stay home with Court, but when you’re asked if you can work, the answer should always be yes. Part of me didn’t want to answer the call, but I took it begrudgingly. By the time I get off shift on Friday, there are five hundred freshly-made muffins sitting on the counter in the kitchen in containers stacked practically to the ceiling. Smiling, I unbutton my shirt and untuck it, set my gun and badge on the table, and walk to Courtney’s room. Cracking open the door, I notice she’s not there. Knowing all too well where she is, I kick off my shoes and head toward my bedroom.
The warm glow of the light from the side lamp illuminates her face. I stand there for a second studying
