I pull in but leave the engine running. "Don't get out until she does."
"Good idea. So what's the rest of the plan?" The uncertainty in his voice is uncanny.
"Lay low overnight, talk to her in the morning."
He slams a fist against the door. "Are you a fucking idiot? What if she sneaks away? What if we fall asleep and she doesn't even have to sneak? What if we get busted for loitering?"
"I really doubt anyone would turn us in for loitering."
"Fair point, but the longer we wait—"
"You're right." I can't handle losing her again. "As soon as we know which apartment she lives in, assuming she’s not just meeting someone, we talk to her. Grab the box from the trunk."
I pop the trunk and Dylan hops out. Perfect timing since she gets out of her car and heads to an upstairs apartment, entering quickly as if she had her key ready. No stopping to knock. It's probably her place, not a friend's.
He gets back in with the box of her stuff. "I saw which one she went to. Let's make a plan, fast."
"First of all, let's see if she remembered who we are."
"Good. And if she doesn't, we can show her pictures." Dylan selects a few from the box.
"Okay. Watch her door. I need to find something." I grab my phone and scroll through the group chat where Dylan and I were trying to get hold of her, apologizing, and ultimately getting more worried as she didn't respond. "This will match the date she went missing. It should count for something."
"Got it. Let's move."
We step out of the car. A dog barks in a nearby unit. Highway noise comes and goes. We approach her building. Up close, the chipped paint and broken shutters beg for repair. The bones look good, but the place could use a carpenter and a fresh coat of paint.
My pulse ticks a beat faster with each step we climb.
"You suppose she'll call the cops on us?"
"What the fuck, Dylan?"
"If she's freaked out…"
"We have a boxful of proof that we're just trying to find our sister."
Stopping on her landing, I take a deep breath, preparing what I'll say first.
Dylan goes straight to knocking on her door.
Chapter 12
Molly
I slam my apartment door, clicking the lock. Confusion twists my thoughts into knots.
Straight to the bathroom. I turn on the shower then stare into the mirror as I undress. "Mirror, mirror, on the wall, am I foolish to let myself fall?"
I let the warm water cascade down my body. It's the only comfort right now, this steady rush drowning out the world. I can't call my friends from the auction—they're enjoying the beginnings of their happily ever afters.
At this hour, there are no muffled conversations seeping through the walls, no TV droning from next door. My neighborsare asleep or gone. I won't bug them. What would I tell them anyway?
And my father? The man from those fractured memories… I don't know how to reach him. Would I even want to go back home? My stepmother doesn't seem too fond of me.
Fleeting memories of the argument with Toby and Dylan leave me full of shame and anger, but are too vague to clarify why.
Can I trust them? Siblings argue. Did they do something so horrendous, I truly wanted them out of my life or was that the heat of the moment speaking?
