After we split up, I sat briefly in my minivan, searching for a psychic hit that wasn't there. Despite the many abilities I'd been given, a psychic connection to my own kids was not one of them.

For now, I was just a mom with a missing daughter.

I had just put the vehicle into gear, mentally going through a list of her friends and where they lived, when my cell phone rang. I gasped and swerved a little and reached for my cell.

Kingsley Fulcrum.

Shit.

I switched on my Bluetooth. "Hey."

"Sam! I just got your text. Have you found her?"

I had indeed sent him a text, but now I regretted doing so. Kingsley Fulcrum was the last person I wanted to think about now.

"Not yet," I said, as I turned right onto Commonwealth. My sister lived closer to downtown than I did. People were everywhere. I scanned the streets.

"I'm coming out now. Where are you?"

"No," I said. "Don't come."

"What - "

"I sent you that text an hour ago. Where were you?"

He paused only briefly, but tellingly. "I was with a client."

"I'm sure you were, big guy. And don't worry, we've got it handled."

"Sam - wait! Are you saying you don't want my help?"

"That's what I'm saying," I said.

"Sam - "

But I had already clicked off.

I sat back and gripped the wheel and wound slowly through downtown Fullerton, knowing that I could have used Kingsley's help, and knowing that I was allowing the hurt in my own heart to possibly get in the way of such help.

But I just couldn't see him. Or talk to him.

Not now. Perhaps not ever.

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