Hard Choices. Allison Leigh

wind because she didn’t cry. Not anymore. “The Annie you knew no longer exists.” Her words were barely audible. “She learned her lessons the hard way.”

      “What lessons?” He jerked his head up before his lips finished forming the question.

      An awful buzzing whine had rent the air. Piercing. Loud. Annie nearly jumped out of her skin and covered her ears. “What is that?” She had to yell to be heard above the alarm, above the awful thunder that was suddenly crashing overhead, sounding as if mountains were collapsing.

      His hand was on her arm, pushing her through the glass door he slid open. “That’s the emergency siren. A hangover from the Second World War. Get Riley.”

      Annie had lived on Turnabout for five years. She hadn’t even known there was an emergency siren. She ran to the second bedroom and threw the door wide, calling Riley’s name.

      But the room was empty.

      Chapter Four

      Annie’s heart stopped.

      Riley wasn’t in her bedroom.

      Before she thought about the idiocy of it, she darted into the room, looking under the bed when she knew perfectly well the only things that fitted under there were the shallow plastic storage boxes that contained a lifetime of photographs. She also yanked open the closet door. But all that was inside were her vacuum cleaner and clothing she never wore.

      “Riley?” She stumbled around the twin-sized bed to peer out the window that overlooked the front of the house, only to jump back with a cry when a palm branch slammed against it, then screeched along the side of the house as the wind carried it.

      Logan was there, arm sliding about her waist, bodily lifting her away from the shuddering windowpane. “Stay away from the glass.”

      She was beyond listening, twisting away from him, nearly falling over the foot of the bed again as she ran into the hall, calling Riley’s name again, barely able to hear her own voice over the wail of the emergency siren.

      Darkness seemed to have fallen in the span of minutes, broken by the hideous strobe of lightning that seemed too close and far too dangerous. “She’s not in the house.” Panic choking her, she headed toward the door, only to find Logan blocking her way. “I have to find her!”

      “You don’t even have on shoes. I’ll go.” He reached for the door himself. It blew out of his grasp when he opened it, slamming back against the wall behind it before he caught it again. “Stay here. Inside. She can’t be far.”

      He’d barely disappeared out the door before Annie ran into her bedroom. She shoved her feet into her tennis shoes and followed him.

      Her sweatshirt was immediately soaked, her hair whipping around her head, nearly blinding her as she ran around the side of the house. The wind tore Riley’s name from her throat, and the siren wailed on and on and on, threatening to madden her.

      Where was Riley?

      Logan had headed up the path that passed for a road in the front of the house. Annie took the beach behind the house instead. Squinting against the sand that managed to blow despite the deluge of water pounding down on it, she ran past the black, cold fire pit, all the way down to the frothing, roiling edge of water. Peered right and left, staring hard between flashes of light, her heart beating so viciously she felt ill. “Riley!”