“Of who?” I asked, but Henry shook his head.
“Monica didn’t know. She said Alice got weird for a second, then changed the subject. I mean, I get paranoid sometimes too. That’s the internet, you know?”
“Could be nothing,” I offered, though it didn’t feel like nothing.
Henry stretched, arching his back until it popped, then settled back against the couch. “I hate this,” he said, and the raw honesty of it made me want to cry.
“Me too,” I said.
We didn’t talk for a while. The only sound was the quiet tick of the old wall clock and the occasional sigh from the fridge.
“You remember when Mom and Dad used to take us to the lake at night?” Henry asked, out of nowhere.
I grinned. “Sure. Dad would bring the telescope, and Mom would make up stories about the constellations.”
“Mom always said the stars were holes poked in heaven so we could see the light,” Henry said.
“Yeah. She said it was proof that the people up there missed us.”
After a bit, I looked at him. “You want to stay up with me? Just for a while?”
He shrugged but didn’t move. I shifted over and gave him a one-armed squeeze, just enough to make sure he knew I was there. He surprised me by hugging me back, tight and hard, just for a second. I returned it.
“Thanks,” he said under his breath.
I kept my arm around his shoulder until he relaxed, and we sat like that, two silhouettes in the silver blue of the living room, staring at the ocean that neither of us trusted tonight. I didn’t know what would happen to Alice, but I’d never let Henry go through it alone.
The dream would come back, I was sure, and maybe the next time it would have more answers. But for now, we stayed put, the two of us braced against the world, waiting for a sign that morning would be better than the night that came before it.
THIRTEEN
Emma
If libraries were supposed to save you, this one had failed its final exam.
Beth and I stepped out onto the sidewalk with empty hands and even emptier heads, or at least that’s how it seemed. The wind found every chink in my jacket, snuck right up under my collar, and worked itself into the sore spot at the base of my neck. I hunched my shoulders, the morning’s chill trying to sandpaper away whatever stubbornness I had left. Even my coffee had gone cold.
Nothing about this case was easy. Alice had, in fact, been to the library, but no one she spoke to had seen anything strange about her or her behavior. Apparently, she’d hung out in her usual section, picking out some new mystery books to devour, and had left in a seemingly good mood.
Did someone who planned to disappear stop to pick up books first? If a woman was frightened of someone or something, would she be cheerily picking out her next read? I really didn’t know, but nothing was making sense.
Beth slammed the library door behind us, the sound echoing down Main Street with a finality I didn’t appreciate.
“Well, that was a waste of three hours,” she said. “My e-reader’s got more answers than this building.”
She had her phone out before the door even shut, scrolling like maybe the next text could cough up Alice’s location. Her bright eyes never stopped moving, cataloguing every person and car between us and the horizon.
“We’re running out of places to look,” I said through my teeth.
We started down the sidewalk, shoes crunching on the sidewalk. I pulled my jacket closer, trying to convince myself the shivers were only from the cold.
“Henry’s…” I hunted for the right words. “He’s shutting down. I’m scared for him. I thought he’d be okay, but it’s like all of Alice’s weird little habits kept him running, and now?—”
“He looks wrecked,” Beth agreed. “You said he barely eats.”
I nodded. “He won’t leave the couch unless I drag him. Doesn’t even bother with his games. Just sits there all night and stares at the water. It’s like he’s afraid if he goes to sleep, she’ll vanish even more.”
Beth’s hand hovered over her phone a second, then settled. “And Deva and Carol are both at work today, so that means this is on us.”
