All the Missing Girls(86)

“I don’t have any money, Annaleise. I have nothing to my name. Bet I’m worth less than you, even.”

She rolled her eyes and stood, but I still had to look down at her. “You’re here to sell the house, isn’t that right?”

I nodded.

“I’ll give you some time, then.” She slid her phone into her back pocket.

“You’re f*cking crazy,” I said. “Does Tyler know you’re this f*cked up?”

She held her hands up, like I’d done from the window as she peered at me. “I just need a way out, Nic.”

“Get a job,” I said, then remembered the money my brother had given me to help me get out. I had someone. I had help.

“Yeah, I’m working on it.” She stood at the door. “Two weeks, Nic. I’ll give you two weeks.”

“I can’t—”

“Really,” she said. She grabbed the ring from the center of the table. “I bet this is worth that amount alone, isn’t it?” I couldn’t answer. I didn’t know. She slid it onto her pointer finger. “I’ll keep it safe until you pay.”

“You’re making a mistake. You can’t take that,” I said.

She opened the door. “Call the police. I dare you. I’ll hold this as insurance.”

She really was daring me. What will you do, Nic? The past or the future? Run away again, or stay and pay your debts?

I couldn’t figure out why Annaleise was doing this to me. Why she thought she could. She was a quiet girl, a timid girl, a lonely girl.

That’s what I could see of her from the fragments of my memory.

And what must she have seen of me?

Me on the other side of the door, after my mother died, as she delivered food and I stood there, silent and broken. Me at the fair as Daniel hit me, as I remained on the ground, weak and shaken.

Sad and quiet and pushed around.

She saw me as the broken girl.

She didn’t know the other parts of me. She didn’t know me at all.



* * *



AFTER I HAD PARKED Tyler’s truck behind the caverns, and after he’d slid that ring on my finger and I’d crawled across his lap—

I saw Corinne. Saw Jackson’s car come to a halt at the edge of the cavern parking lot, over Tyler’s shoulder, through the trees. What is it? he’d said. Nothing, I’d said. Just Jackson and Corinne. Ignore them. They can’t see us.

I saw Corinne throw open the door and yell something at Jackson. Heard Jackson’s muffled voice yelling something back, then him pulling away, the tires kicking up dirt. Through the woods, that’s the way she’d go to my place. But she disappeared around the curve, walking down the road.

“Should we go after her?” asked Tyler, twisted around in his seat, watching the same scene.

But I was full of her words, telling me to jump, and seeing her with my brother, which seemed like the ultimate betrayal after he’d just hit me. She went to comfort him, not me. She knew, and she leaned against his side. Ignore her, I’d said to Tyler, turning his head to face me, and Tyler had been all too happy to oblige.

We left for home not long after. I eased the truck out onto the road, high beams on in the dark, Tyler’s ring on my finger. We took the first curve, and there, thumb out, skirt blowing with the breeze, stood Corinne Prescott.

She stood at the edge of the road with nothing. She’d left her bag at my house earlier, a common Corinne maneuver to see who would pay for her. Whether she could talk the vendors into covering the cost, whether she could convince one of us. I’d paid for her Ferris wheel ticket. I’d paid for everything. Because on the tip of Corinne’s tongue was a truth I wasn’t ready to share. A trump card. Emotional blackmail. A dare.

Bailey had sneaked in a few miniature vials of whiskey from her dad’s collection. She pulled one out at the top of the Ferris wheel, took a gulp, passed it to Corinne, and Corinne handed it to me, her eyebrows raised. I took it from her outstretched hand, held it to my mouth, felt the burn of the liquor on my tongue, on the back of my throat. I was starting to make a decision right at that moment, as I let it slide back into the bottle instead.

She’d grinned at me. “Tyler’s here,” she said, pointing him out in the crowd.

I leaned over the edge with her. “Tyler!” I called.

She took another swig, then followed it up with a piece of spearmint gum. “Truth or dare, Nic,” she said, slowly rocking the cart back and forth as Bailey giggled.

“Dare,” I said too fast. There were too many truths, too close to the surface.

“I dare you to climb on the outside of the cart. I dare you to ride it like that. On the outside.”

And then later, with her thumb sticking out, her eyes meeting mine through the windshield: I dare you to drive on by. I dare you to pretend you don’t see me here. I dare you.

Annaleise didn’t know—I always took the dare.



* * *



I STILL KNEW TYLER’S number by heart. He answered his phone, and I could tell from the low hum of noise in the background that he was at the bar. “Hey, Nic, what’s up?”

The kitchen light shone off the glossy surface of the pictures, and I squeezed my eyes shut. “Did you know your girlfriend blackmailed my dad?”