I’m not sure where to file that thought. So I let it simmer as a reassurance that Willow is safe here no matter where shewanders.
When I find the greenhouse empty, I chant the thought like a mantra and run back the way I came. She has to be somewhere.With someone.
Do. Not. Panic.
“Oh, thank God!” I exclaim when I run into Bambi in one of the convertible lounge rooms. She’s sipping on an iced coffee andeyes me warily as I approach. “Have you seen Willow?”
Bambi pauses mid-sip. Then: “She’s fine.”
“Where is she?” I plaster on my best smile and try my hardest to not sound panicked or irritated.
Demyen’s assistant, lawyer, whatever she is, fails to hide the eye roll. “Clara. Relax. She’s fine. She’s safe and she’s happy.Now…” She holds her iced coffee up to me. “C
