We Were Never Here(66)

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Shortly before six, Priya hoisted her mat over her head and slung the strap across her chest: Artemis with her quiver of arrows. I had a missed call from Kristen and texted that I’d try her later. There was, I realized, nothing in particular for us to do. In the past, I’d have sought out Kristen’s reassurances: We’re fine, we were smart, no one’s looking for us. Now, after all I knew about her past, the dead bodies studding her personal history, I just wanted to stay as far away from her as possible.

At the studio, Priya made a beeline for the locker room while I waited to rent a mat. My ankle felt better, but this was my first class since the injury. I stepped into the changing room and stopped short.

At first I thought I was hallucinating, the way I’d seen Paolo at baggage claim all those weeks ago.

But no—it was her. Priya and Kristen were standing inside, half-changed, heads bent over a phone.

“Kristen?”

    She looked up and grinned. “Priya said you guys love this teacher!”

“I— Hi. I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Kristen was telling me about the private yoga class you took in Chile,” Priya added. “I wanted to see the instructor she was talking about.”

“I found her on Instagram. I’m obsessed with her.” Kristen went into a spot-on impression, her fake accent thick: “Keep your knees suave…now we bow to the sky.”

I smiled back but felt my eyebrows knit. Why draw attention to where we’d been, and when?

Priya turned to cram her stuff into a locker and I gave Kristen a WTF look. She responded with a scrunched brow and shake of her head: What is it? Another woman burst into the changing room, banging the door against the wall, and we hustled to get ready for class.

In Warrior 3, I found my balance, tough and firm, but next to me, Kristen wavered and then fell, brushing my outstretched arm and knocking us both over in the process.

Then, in handstand practice, Kristen kicked her way up as if she had something to prove. She stood there calmly, palms as feet, blood rushing to her face but her expression determined.



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Kristen and I had parked near each other, so we shuffled down the sidewalk together. As soon as Priya was out of earshot, Kristen turned to me.

“What’s going on? You’re being weird.”

“I’m being weird?” My fingers flew to my collarbone.

“Do you not like me hanging out with Priya?”

“It’s not that,” I said, though it kind of was. I started walking again. “Did you not read the news today? The family’s offering a million-dollar reward. We’re screwed.”

“Hey. Do we need to turn our phones off?”

I stared at her. “You’re seriously gonna make me turn my phone off when you were just telling Priya about Chile?” Heedlessness followed by paranoia—the whiplash set off more alarm bells.

    “What, about the yoga studio?” She grinned. “You haven’t told people about that? Maribela was awesome.”

We stopped in front of my sedan. “I don’t think we should be drawing attention to the fact that we were there at that exact time.”

She rolled her eyes. “If we’re trying to act normal, news flash: Talking about yoga at yoga is normal.”

“I guess, but—”

“Em, no one is drawing a line between us and that,” she interrupted. “Here, if you want to keep discussing let’s at least toss our phones in your car.”

I complied, slamming the door with gusto, then turned to her, fists on hips. “You’re being reckless.”

“What, you think Priya is going to see the news and, like, call the FBI?”

“I know, but—”

“Hey, I’ve got a hot tip.” She held her hand up like a phone. “These two women I know, sweet girls, law-abiding. They were in that same region of the world as that backpacker sometime last month, so you should probably send a SWAT team. A million dollars, please.”

“I know. It’s not logical.” I shook my head. “You should read the article. It’s terrifying.”

“Fine, but it’ll probably just result in a deluge of false leads. If anything, it proves they’ve got nothing. And if they do miraculously get as far as talking to us: Yeah, we chatted with him at a bar, there were a ton of people there, I made out with him, he left, never saw him again. He was a vagrant, Emily.”

“But someone could have seen us…loading the trunk, or putting the shovels back, or, or maybe we didn’t clean as well as we thought in the suite or the rental car…”

“No one knows anything but us. You and me.” She narrowed her eyes. “Unless you’ve told anyone. Like Aaron?”

    A sparkler of fear in my chest. “Of course not.”

“Emily.” She settled her hands on my shoulders. “We need to stay calm and stick together. Now is not the time to freak out and start acting weird.” She glanced at a gaggle of teenagers ambling past. “Okay? We got this.”

I nodded, because it felt like the right thing to do. But in truth, I couldn’t shut myself into my car fast enough. I watched her reach the corner and disappear behind an office building.