It was going to be a late night. At least, that’s what Trent assumed when he’d headed home from work that evening with his laptop and a list of things he wanted to get done before he flew out to St. Louis the next afternoon. He hadn’t gotten much of anything accomplished at the office, but by the time he was home and had eaten dinner, he’d finally been able to focus on his work and had gotten a lot of his list knocked out by the time his cell phone rang a little past ten.
A smile came to his face when he saw that it was Bree. He was expecting her to call before she went to bed. He hadn’t realized how late it was, but he was eager to speak to her. “Hey, babe,” he said, as soon as the phone was at his ear.
Immediately, he realized she was crying. Trent felt alarm building up inside of him as all of the horrible things he’d feared might happen cycled through his mind. “Bree, baby, what’s wrong?” he said, sitting bolt upright on the couch.
