Lost Girls(77)

I talked to the remaining girls on that list from my closet. I met Alexis, Shelby, and Lacy, and found out that I had fought all of them, back in the Silver Level when I was putting my team together. But the good thing was, they were all still alive.

It was now almost three o’clock and we were nearly done with our first objective.

“Saturday traffic sucks. Don’t these people have someplace better to be than on the freeway?” Molly slurped down the last of her Mocha Frappuccino, then pointed out the window. “Turn here. Don’t listen to the GPS, this way is quicker.”

Zoe gave me an indulgent grin as she followed Molly’s instructions.

We had several goals today.

Our second objective had been accomplished along the way. We vowed to do it every Saturday, forever, until we finally got results. Whenever we weren’t on the freeway, we’d stop every couple of blocks and hang up a poster.

Missing Girl. Janie Deluca.

A color photo of Janie was front and center. Below it was a description of her height and weight, where and when she was last seen, plus an 800 number to contact with information.

As we hung the posters, blue bracelets would slide down our wrists, bracelets that proclaimed FIND JANIE. Everyone we knew was wearing these bracelets, our parents, our siblings, our friends at school. And there was a memorial down in front of that hall in Rosemead where she had gone missing, with a big cross, candles and bouquets of flowers.

But the hardest thing I had to do was up ahead.

Molly set down her empty Starbucks cup, while Zoe slowed the car and parked at the curb. We all stared at that house, that very nice house surrounded by flowers and hedges, with shutters on the windows, that house that looked like it should have been in an animated fairy tale but accidentally got cast in a horror movie instead.

Nicole’s house.

It still whispered for her to come home, come home, please, I miss you, I love you, why did you have to go away...?

I swallowed with difficulty, my limbs wooden as I climbed out of the car. Zoe and Molly opened their doors and I turned toward them. “You don’t have to come with me.”

“Yes, we do,” Zoe said, her tone sweet but firm.

“Damn straight,” Molly said. “Would Boo-Boo let Yogi go into the forest alone?”

I shook my head. “Probably not.”

We walked together up that stone walkway, past palm trees and birds of paradise and bougainvillea. It felt wrong and right at the same time.

The door opened as soon as I knocked, as if Nicole’s mother had been waiting for me. She gave me a smile and I tried to echo it but couldn’t. She invited us in, gave us cookies which I couldn’t eat—I tried, but I just couldn’t swallow. That smile she had given me faded, inch by inch, as I told her my story.

I told her everything.

It’s what I would have wanted someone to tell my mom. I would want her to know.

She was weeping, quietly, before I finished and she didn’t stop. I wanted her to yell at me, to beat fists against my chest. But she never got angry. She merely got up and made me another bag of cookies, tucking another photo of Nicole inside.

This photo showed Nicole grinning, holding a teddy bear. She was nine years old and her whole life was before her. It sparked in her eyes—all those dreams she’d had, dreams of college and marriage and children, dreams of vacations in Hawaii and a nice house down in Huntington Beach and a career where she’d make a difference in the world.

I put that photo on my bulletin board, next to the other photo Nicole’s mom had given me, and I looked at both of them every day. They hung next to an extra blue wristband that said FIND JANIE.

Dreams could be lost too easily. I knew that now.

So I dreamed that one day, one of us would bring Janie back home.

...

The months after I got out of the hospital went by quicker than I expected. Ms. Petrova and the students in my ballet class became like a second family. I found myself attending several sessions per week and, even though I was no longer taking Pink Lightning, I somehow landed the role of Titania in a production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

School hadn’t been a good fit, though—I still had too much stuff to sort through, too many emotions and nightmares and unexpected reactions to normal things, like hiking in the woods or watching someone get beat up on a TV show. So my parents got a special program set up for me, a cross between home schooling and independent studies, so I could finish the semester at home. That nerdy college kid down the street and Dad worked together to help me. By the time June came, everyone I knew, me included, was done with school and we finally had time to hang out, non-stop.

Sammy, aka Komodo, had gone through a transformation, almost like I had. She came over a couple of times a week. Her, Zoe, Stephanie, and I would spar in the backyard.

No reason to lose our skills. That was our new motto.

We even taught Mom a few moves, self-defense stuff, just in case. She ended up really liking it and signed up for a Tae Bo class at the local junior college.

Molly joined our kick-ass group, too, though we had to be really gentle and patient with her. More than once, Sammy wanted to knock Molly on her butt, to make her learn faster. But I reminded Sammy we didn’t do things that way anymore. Molly would get it, sooner or later. For now, she was more of a mascot, knowing that we had her back if she ever needed it.

Lauren sent my mom and my dad cards on Mother’s Day and Father’s Day, since if it wasn’t for them, she’d either be a pile of bones rotting in a ravine or a punching bag for her dad whenever he got pissed off.