Prologue
Cherish Parker - age 15
“Thanks for the ride.” I grabbed my backpack off the floorboard and pulled on the door handle of my friend, Christy’s car. I paused with one leg out of the door as my gaze settled on the front door to my house. I didn’t want to go in there. Ever since my sister went missing, it has been like walking through a minefield filled with broken eggshells. One little thing could set my parents off.
I got it. Their oldest daughter is missing with a serial killer on the loose. They are stressed out and worried. But I wished they would stop fighting all the time. When they weren’t yelling at each other, passing around blame for Mariposa’s disappearance, it was deathly silent.
With a glance over my shoulder at Christy, who gave me a sympathetic smile, I finally stepped out of the car.
I waved after closing the door and watched as Christy drove away to head to her own house. I almost called out to take me with her, but clenched my fist at my side instead. Taking a deepbreath, I started walking up the sidewalk, heading for the dark blue front door.
It didn’t used to be like this. Our home was always full of laughter and fun. Mariposa and I were as close as sisters could be. Sure, we fought sometimes; we were siblings after all. What siblings never argued about stupid shit? But since she went missing eight days ago, the temperature seemed to drop ten degrees inside those walls. The cold was metaphorical, of course. But it still felt like I could get frostbite just by entering.
I slowly turned the knob and then pushed the door open, not knowing what to expect once I got inside. As soon as I stepped over the threshold, I could hear them. Mom and Dad were at it again. From their room up the stairs and down the hall, I could make out the muffled sounds of yelling. And crying.
They both blamed each other, though I didn’t know why. I suppose it was a way to cope. Or not cope. What the hell did I know? It certainly wasn’t healthy. We tried having dinner together the first day after she hadn’t come home, but it ended with my dad launching his plate across the room. Corn kernels had flown everywhere, covering the table, floor, and countertops. Mom had immediately burst into tears. I could still hear the sound the chair made as it screeched across the wood floor. I had just sat there, my head down, staring at my uneaten mashed potatoes and chicken.
Mariposa was the best sister I could hope for. She was also Mom and Dad’s pride and joy. They loved me, I knew that, but my sister was their firstborn. She was special. Wickedly smart, beautiful, and kind. She was enrolled in college, choosing to stay close to home rather than accept one of the many offers from colleges farther away. She wanted to stay close, and I loved her for it.
Because she went to the university down the road, she was able to still live at home. Everyone was happy with her choices,even though she probably could have been better off at an out-of-state college. I thought of the serial killer who’d started leaving a trail of dead young women about six months ago and wished shehadgone out of state.
I swiped away a tear and headed over to the couch in the living room. I’d already completed my homework at school- a habit I’d picked up in the last few days. Anything to avoid heading home for as long as possible.
Sitting my backpack on the floor in front of the couch, I leaned over and picked up the two game controllers before dropping down on the cushions. I stared at the game controllers in my hands. Mariposa’s was purple with a butterfly design, while mine was a sparkly pink. She loved everything about butterflies.
Hitting the button, I watched as the TV lit up. As the glow from the screen penetrated the darkness of the room, I felt myself relax just a bit. The sound of glass breaking from upstairs immediately had my shoulders tightening up again.
Pressing the buttons on the butterfly controller, I turned on the game my sister and I played together whenever we got the chance. For years, it had been our go-to game. We probably had 20 others to choose from, but we rarely played anything else.
I selected Mariposa’s favorite character and car. Then I waited for the lights to change from red to green. As soon as the word GO came on the screen, my animated car took off on screeching tires.
I dodged attacks while using every trick we’d learned over the years. On the third lap, I was so far ahead that it would be impossible to stop me unless I gave up.
As soon as my character crossed the finish line and threw their hands up in victory, I turned to Mariposa with a huge grin on my face.
The grin melted away as I stared down at my own pink controller. How had I forgotten so easily?
As I was wiping away a fresh set of tears, I heard the doorbell ring and froze. My heart began to hurt with how hard it was beating in my chest as a fist pounded on the wooden door.
I stood up on shaky legs and gulped fresh air into lungs that felt like they were burning inside my chest. I glanced up at the stairs, noticing that the yelling had stopped. An eerie silence took over the house as I continued to the front door.
The doorbell rang again just as I reached for the knob, making me jolt in shock. Swinging open the door slowly, I could already see the black fabric of the two officers standing outside.
I tried to greet them, but my throat was clogged with fear. I had to clear it twice before a strangled-sounding “Hello” finally made it past my lips.
The male officer had a carefully masked expression, not giving anything away, but with that alone, I knew.
I knew.
Darting my eyes over to the female officer as my hand tightened painfully on the door in an attempt to hold myself upright, I saw my worst fears deep in her dark eyes.
They didn’t have to say anything. I already knew.
“Is your mom or dad home?”
The gentle voice of the pretty Hispanic woman had me blinking rapidly. Before I could answer, my shoulder was gripped, and I was being pulled back from the door by my dad’s hand.
I stumbled, but not because he was rough with me. It was because I was finding it difficult to hold my own weight up with my trembling knees.
