“We shouldn’t push her,” I said, watching Drew place another berry in the bucket. He was so careful.
“I think she’ll be ready soon,” Syd said. “She’s tougher than you think.”
I wasn’t so sure about that. Every time we were at the jump, I could see the fear in Ella’s eyes.
Annie had come up close to me. She tucked her hand in mine. “I think I’m done,” she said. Kate was making her way toward us down the row.
The smell was earth and moisture, lush growth from generous decay. The sun hit Annie’s hair and caught its red and gold strands. I thought about the old bookBlueberries for Sal, andwondered if I should read it to Annie later, or if it would make her scared of bears.
But she didn’t have to be.
There were no bears.
We were so, so safe.
50.
now
Finally, at a loss for what else to do, I drive back to Syd’s house and park my car out front, staring up at her windows. Is she here? Did she go back inside?
How am I ever going to do this, if they don’t want to be found?
But what if Syd—or whoever it is—isn’t going along the road?
What if they’re literally going cross-country? Through yards, over fences, hiding, waiting?
There’s no way one person can look everywhere in an empty town. Even in a single empty house earlier, she gave me the slip.
I slump back in my seat.
Yolo climbs into my lap.
“You’re right,” I say. “I guess we should go home.” I turn the key in the ignition, and start driving, just a bit too fast. But I want to crawl under the vanity and hide, go to ground.
And then I realize.
That rolling sound.
That happens when I take the turns too sharp.
That wasn’t there yesterday.
I screech to a stop.
Run around to the back of my car.
And open the trunk.
51.
once
How’s camping going?Sam texted.
I’m having the time of my life,I wrote back.Remind me again why you and your family love to do this.
“Phone, please,” my mom said, holding out her hand.
