Ethan is more than happy for us to hang out. He’s as worried as I am about what tomorrow will bring and it’s hard not to think today could be our last day together for a while.
Teeny talks the entire way to Ethan’s. She’s sandwiched between us in the front seat and is going on and on about some drama in her class between her friend, Georgia, and the boy she likes named Jimmy.
It’s a good thing it doesn’t take long to get to Ethan’s.
Teeny runs in the house as soon as she jumps out of the truck but Ethan holds me back. “For today, let’s not talk about what’s going on or try to guess what will happen next.”
“Or act like this might be our last day together?” I ask.
“No matter what, this won’t be our last day together,” he answers, his voice full of emotion. “Let’s try for a normal day, okay?”
“Okay.”
I love the feeling I get when I’m at Ethan’s house. Homey. Relaxed. Safe. I want a normal day more than anything else and I know this is the perfect place to get it.
It’s not long before Teeny and Mrs. Landry are baking cookies while Ethan and I settle in for a movie marathon.
Later that afternoon, just after Mrs. Landry invites us to stay for dinner, my phone starts ringing. I have to dig past the plastic bag–covered journal in my bag to find my phone. I’m not sure why I brought it with me. Even though it makes me feel nervous and sick, I can’t let it go.
I find my phone just before the call went to voice mail.
“Hello.”
“Where are you?” Dad all but screams on the other end.
“At Ethan’s. Why?”
“Did you come home at all after you left with him this morning?”
He’s frantic on the phone and it’s terrifying to hear.
“No! We’ve been here all day. Just like you said! Why?”
“Stay there. Don’t move. Someone’s been here. In the house. I’m calling the cops,” Dad says.
“What?” I scream.
Ethan’s head is close to mine, listening to Dad, and Teeny sticks her head out from the kitchen. It’s obvious something is terribly wrong. And I can tell by her face, she’s heard more of this than I wanted her to know.
“It has to be him! Who else could it be?” Dad’s voice catches when he says, “And the journal’s gone. If there were any prints there to identify him, it’s gone now.”
My eyes dart to my bag. “No. It’s not. The journal is with me, in my bag.”
“Sissy, what’s happening?” Teeny asks.
I pull her close to me and tell her what’s happened in as few words as possible.
“I want to see Dad,” she says.
Even though Dad told us to wait, Ethan, Teeny, and I run from the Landry’s house to Ethan’s truck parked outside.
Expecting Ethan to crank the truck, I throw on my seat belt, but he sits still in his seat, staring at the cup holders.
“My remote to the farm is gone.”
“What?” I lift my bag from off the floorboard. “Maybe it fell, like before.” I search under the seat but it’s not there.
“No, I saw it in the cup holder right after we got out of the truck earlier.” He turns around and surveys the backseat, too. “My backpack is still there but it’s open and papers are hanging out.”
