Nic searched for the right answer. Was it better that he believed their father’s lie? That the note had been authenticated? That their mother left them? Or should she tell him the truth—that now she didn’t know for sure, even if the police and everyone else in this town still believed it?
Not knowing meant their mother could be dead.
“Ev—listen to me,” she said. “It wasn’t because of the football game. It wasn’t because of anything you did.”
“I see her sometimes,” he said, his voice beginning to calm. “I see her standing by the door to the field house, smiling at me. Wanting me to smile back. Just one smile, you know? And I just felt so pissed off that she was right there where all my friends could see her. It’s not normal that she came all that way for every home game. Other parents don’t come until the playoffs. Why did she have to do that? Why did she keep coming?”
“You know why, Ev.”
“Why?”
She took a second, let him think about it.
“Because of Annie?” he asked then. “That was so long ago. And it’s not like driving eight hours to see me is going to bring her back.”
“I know. It’s complicated.”
“Do you ever ask yourself…”
“What?”
“Why we’re not enough. Why it’s not enough that we’re still here.”
God, Evan. What could she say to that? The truth was, she had never asked that question. It was shocking to hear this, how their mother’s disappearance had resonated so differently inside of him.
“Evan—I’m going to find her, okay? You keep your shit together. I’ve got this.”
“Okay…”
“Promise me?”
“I promise,” he said.
Nic told him about the broken taillight, and how it was a good lead. She made it sound more promising than it was because she needed him to be all right. He seemed comforted by it, this shred of hope she’d given him.
Then he asked, “Did you ever find out what was behind that fence? If anyone looked there?”
Nic went up to her room. She found sweats and sneakers. Then back downstairs where she found Roger Booth at the front desk.
“Hi,” Nic said.
“Hello,” he replied. He was in a good mood.
“Are there any trails behind the inn? I wanted to go for a run,” she said.
Roger jerked his head back like the surprise had knocked him square in the jaw.
“Not really. The ground’s pretty rough. And wet. Why don’t you go on the road?”
“I used to run cross-country. I still run in the woods. The trails. How far back does it go—the property?”
“We’ve got about fifty acres. You could start training for a marathon if you want.”
Roger Booth had a sense of humor.
Nic turned and walked to the front door. Roger called after her.
“Wait. I was actually joking. It’s not safe out there. The bears are still active. And we’ve had sightings of wolves.”
