I was starting to get nervous, starting to wonder if he had more restraint than we’d given him credit for, because there was no way he wasn’t aware of the online war raging over hisname. It had even been picked up by other podcasters and video content creators, and when I’d left the house that morning, #whereisethantodd had been trending.
I hated that in our game of strategy, it was now Ethan’s move. There was nothing we could do until we figured out where he was hiding, and in the meantime I’d taken to digging deeper into the disappearances of the women surrounding Blackwell Falls over the past few years, looking for something — anything — I might have missed that would give us another lead into the sex trafficking operation and Todd’s whereabouts.
Because that was one thing I was sure of: the two were connected.
I didn’t know how Ethan Todd was linked to the missing girls, but I knew he was part of the tangled web that had snared them, and there was more than one way to tear down a tangled web.
If finding and taking out Ethan Todd meant finding out more about the sex trafficking operation, it only stood to reason that finding out more about the sex trafficking operation might mean finding out more about Ethan Todd and where he might be hiding.
I’d pored over old articles about the missing girls, had reread every press release from the Blackwell Falls Police Department, had watched every press conference given by Detective Rodriguez, the detective who seemed to be in charge of the other cases connected to the sex trafficking operation.
I’d even considered contacting her, telling her what had happened with Ethan Todd, how he’d kidnapped me and taken me to Romania, how he’d threatened to disappear me into his illegal operation.
But that seemed like a bad idea. I’d have to explain how I’d escaped, which would shine a light on the Butchers.
And Ethan Todd had powerful friends. For all I knew they had someone on the inside at the police department. If the wrong person got wind that I was talking to Detective Rodriguez, it might just send Todd into deeper hiding.
Better to be patient, disciplined, and stick with our plan, trust that NYNancy would ultimately drive Todd out of the shadows and into the light.
Olivia had finished two of the four walls when we decided to take a break. I’d cut in on the other two walls so it was a good time to swap positions.
I picked up the tray my dad had left in the hall and Olivia and I sprawled out on the floor around it, guzzling the vanilla seltzer my dad had garnished with the rosemary and cranberries.
“It looks good,” I said, taking in our work.
“Agreed.” She broke off a piece of the blondie in her hand and popped it in her mouth. “I’m glad I went with the green. You were right about the pink.”
“It’s a nice pink! You just said you were looking for something more mature.”
“It was the right call. Thanks for helping me with it.”
“No worries,” I said. “I’ve got nothing but time.”
I’d told my family I’d quit my job at Lushberry, that I was taking some time off to figure out what was next in my life. It was a white lie, a comforting lie, better than telling them I’d been kidnapped, taken to Romania, and almost sex trafficked by the man who’d inspired Chris to kill June.
“It’s nice to have you around again,” she said. “I missed you while you were gone.”
I looked at her with surprise. “I was nevergone. I’m only a few blocks away!”
I’d told my family I was seeing someone, that we were trialing living together. Another comforting white lie, this one for me. My parents were nervous about it, wanted to meet “him.”
But I wasn’t ready to explain my situation with the Butchers, didn’t even know how to do it, starting with the fact that “him” was actually “them.” I’d asked them to trust me and was relieved that they had, but I knew it wouldn’t last long. After what had happened to June, they had every right to want details about my living situation.
“Yeah, but you were like… kind of gone too,” Olivia said, looking down at the half-eaten blondie in her hand.
“What do you mean, Liv?”
“Just… you didn’t come around as often, and even when you did, you were… different.”
“Aren’t we all different after what happened to June?” I asked softly.
She took a deep breath. “Yeah, but you were like… really different. Not just, like, sad, but… angry.”
I had to force myself to swallow the bite of blondie that had turned to glue in my mouth. “Aren’t you angry? Or weren’t you in the beginning?”
She shook her head. “I was just sad. And I’m still just sad. Sad and…”
“And...?”
