If You Find Me(48)

“Wartburg. With my mom and my little sister.”

“Where did you go to school?”

I use the word Melissa so generously attributed to my and Nessa’s prior education.

“We were homeschooled.”

I see an understanding enter his eyes.

“That explains soooo much. So the high school experience is totally new to you. I get it now.”

I drain my juice, nodding. “It’s like a whole new world.”

We fall into a comfortable silence, broken only by the snow cover sliding from the oak and hickory trees surrounding us.

“So, Delaney’s your sister.”

I stare at him, mouth open, food on my tongue.

“No worries. I can keep a secret.”

I chew, absorbing the gravity of this breach of my secret life. Does anyone else know? I swallow the food in a lump.

“Delaney is my stepsister. My father married her mother. We don’t share blood or anything.”

“And you’re not the best of friends, obviously.”

“Not yet.”

We both smile at that. Then I surprise myself.

“I reckon it’s tough, Jenessa and me popping up out of the blue like we did.”

Ryan nods, but he’s gone to school with Delaney for years and knows her better than I do. Perhaps because of Mama or my bond with Ness, it means more to me than it does to Delaney.

“What’s your stepmom like?”

“That’s easy. She’s wonderful. She really is. And she’s amazing with my sister.”

“What about your mom?”

“Mama?”

He takes a bite of banana, offering me a bite. I shake my head no.

“Was your mom good with your sister?”

I take another bite of Twinkie. Again, I don’t know how to answer. I’m not used to sharing, especially information about ourselves. After all those years sworn to secrecy, I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to it.

“She tried to be. She did her best by us, I reckon. But she had her own stuff to deal with.” The lie tastes bitter, tainting the moment. I wish I’d never said the words.

Ryan stares off into the distance, avoiding my eyes, like he knows I’m lying. All of a sudden, I’m feeling naked as the trees without their snow cover.

“I reckon you know something you’re not saying,” I venture. “I’m not stupid.”

He scrutinizes my face, then looks away. My leg begins to jiggle. I rest my arm on my thigh to make it stop.

“I don’t know if I should say anything.”

“Please,” I say quietly, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Just say it.”

I watch him reach inside his coat pocket and pull out a piece of white paper folded in squares. My heart pounds as I think of Delaney and the R circle on the window glass.

He already knows. He’s trying to find a way to “let me down easy,” as they say on TV

I take the paper from him, my hands shaking, and unfold it on my lap, smoothing out the creases. But it isn’t Mama’s letter. It’s worse.

I see a picture of a little girl with a Po doll in her arms, below the words MISSING AND ENDANGERED. The words disappear as I stare at the little girl, who still looks like me. Five years old, barely. Top middle teeth missing. Wearing a stripey maroon pullover, hair still pumpkin-seed blond. Easy smile. So easy, I ache at the sight of it.

My voice comes from far, far away.

“Where did you get this?”

I’m breathing fast. I can’t stop; soon, I’m panting like Shorty after chasing tennis balls, and the trees seem to run in circles around me.

“Here, take this. Put it over your mouth and breathe in and out as deeply as you can.”

I take the lunch bag and follow his instructions. In. Out. In. Out. Until the trees slow to a stop and the ground sinks back into place. Ryan reaches out to steady me, but before I can stop myself, I push him away.

“Where did you get this?” I wave the flyer at him, my voice on the verge of hysteria.

“My mom. I was talking about you, and she remembered some old newspaper clippings. She saves newspaper clippings in a scrapbook. The flyer was in there, too.”

“How many people have seen this?”

I flinch as his eyes register surprise, then hurt.

“No one! I wouldn’t do that. Why would I do that? I just thought—”

“What? That it’d be fun to humiliate me?”

“It’s not like that.” Ryan pleads with me. “CC, I didn’t mean—”

“My mother is not a kidnapper! This is Bullshit.”

I don’t know why I’m lying to him. I don’t know why I’m protecting her.

“Forget it. Let’s just—”

Ryan watches helplessly as I scramble to my feet. I’m glad to see him off balance—just like me. I shove the flyer into my knapsack before slinging it over my shoulder. I snatch up my violin case, smacking his knee with it. Reaching out, he places his hand over mine as I clutch the handle tight.

“I’m sorry, CC. I didn’t mean— I wasn’t trying to—”

“I don’t want anyone to know about Mama!”

How many other people have seen this flyer? How many people remember? Is that why they stare at us? Because they know? Do they know about the woods, too?