All the Missing Girls(89)

Daniel nodded. “Then let’s go get it.”

“Fine,” she said, slowly moving away from us. She walked a few steps ahead of Daniel, with me and Tyler trailing behind, his hand on my lower back, promising me, Everything’s okay, everything’s working out, we’ve got this all under control. I don’t know whether it was that three of us were following her and she was scared, or if she felt her options running out, felt her world and her future growing smaller, but she stepped into the tree line—the crunch of a branch, the darkness like a cloak—and she ran.

“Fuck,” said Tyler as he took off after her.

“Wait here, Nic,” Daniel said, and he took off through the woods at another angle.

I stood on the hill in sight of both our houses—dark, except for the light from Tyler’s truck. I sneaked closer to hers so I could see her front door better. And I listened to the woods. For the monsters and the demons and the eyes. For a struggle, or a whisper, or a scream.

I crouched down when I heard footsteps slowly coming toward me. My muscles twitching, ready to snap.

“Nic?”

I relaxed at the sound of Tyler’s voice. “Up here,” I said. “Did you find her?”

“No. You?”

I shook my head as he crouched beside me, watching her house.

It was another twenty minutes before Daniel came back from the other direction. “I lost her,” he said, reaching out one hand as if grasping a ghost. “Got as far as the river, and then I lost her.”

“She’ll be back,” Tyler said.

“Go,” I said to Daniel. “Go home to Laura.”

Daniel checked his watch and frowned. “Call me when she comes back.” He stuffed his hands deep into his pockets as he walked away.

“You, too,” I said to Tyler. “Go home. I’ll watch for her.”

“Nah,” he said, sitting beside me on top of the hill. “I’m not going anywhere.”



* * *



WE STAYED THERE UNTIL sunup, but she didn’t come back.

Back in my kitchen, I made a pot of coffee while Tyler paced. “Fuck. Fuck,” he said.

I stared out the window, biting my nail. That feeling like static, like something thrumming, pressing down on us, was thick in the air—the feeling that something was about to happen. And we were waiting for it. Sirens, the police, a phone call from her, just something. I started a fire, threw the pictures into the flames, watched as they bubbled and curled, willing them to disappear faster. When nothing had happened by the time Daniel stopped by on his way to work, I started to think that maybe it wouldn’t.

“Anything?” Daniel asked.

“She’s not back,” I said. “What did you tell Laura?”

“Nothing,” he said. “Never got the chance. When I didn’t come home, she left. Probably went to stay at her sister’s. God. Now she’s giving me the silent treatment.”

“Just tell her you stayed here,” I said.

“And what was so wrong with you that I had to stay here?” he asked.

I sighed. “I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

“Goddammit,” he said, running his hand through his hair. Then he cursed repeatedly under his breath, gripped the edge of the table, breathing deeply, getting himself under control. “We need to talk to Dad.”

“I’ll do it,” I said.

“You need to be careful,” he said, and I understood. I couldn’t let it become something Dad fixated on, couldn’t let him get lost in it, couldn’t let him work himself up about this. I had to graze the surface, come at it from the side, ask him about it in pieces.

“Go to work,” I said. “Both of you. Everything’s normal. Everything’s fine. Only call if you know something.”

I watched Annaleise’s empty apartment until noon. Watched as her mother knocked on the door and knocked again. Watched as she took a key from her pocket and let herself inside. Until she came back out, standing in the entrance, her phone in her hand, staring at the ground. I watched until the very moment she realized her daughter was gone.



* * *



MY BODY WAS ON edge the entire car ride to Grand Pines, my muscles twitching with too much energy, even though I hadn’t slept since the day before. I couldn’t feel my feet; they tingled with heaviness.

I gave my name at the entrance and was escorted by a young male aide to Dad’s empty room.

“He wanders,” the aide said. “Probably out in the courtyard. It’s a beautiful day. Hear we’re getting some nasty storms tomorrow, though.” He was leaning against the window beside me, and I saw him looking me over in the reflection. His gaze flicked down to my hand. “Hi,” he said, sticking out his hand. “Andrew. I work here.” His eyes were blue, and he was probably younger than I was, and he had a nice smile that probably had the same effect everywhere.

“Nicolette,” I said. “I live in Philadelphia, actually.”

“Shame,” he said. “You in town for a while?”

“No,” I said. I pointed out the window. “There.” Dad was reading a book on a bench near the edge of the courtyard, his elbows resting on his brown pants, like he was deep in thought, searching the words for more meaning. “Thanks for your help, Andrew.” I forced myself to flash him a smile as I left the room.