She took a tentative step over the threshold. “I just wanted to see if you guys wanted some pancakes? I know you’re both busy, but?—”
“Not that busy,” Josie and Noah said at the same time.
Wren’s shoulders dropped with what Josie realized was relief. Had she had to work up the nerve to ask them to have breakfast? Would she really have been disappointed if they’d said no?
To Noah, Wren said, “You have to go back in now, though, don’t you?”
He smiled. “I still need to eat.”
Wren’s hands went still. “Oh. Great! Cool, I’ll see you guys down there then. I already made?—”
She broke off. Josie followed her gaze to the things scattered across the bedspread. Keys, credentials, cell phone, a slim wallet that held her driver’s license and a couple of credit cards, and the flyer from Dani Schwarber’s house. Confusion and what looked like fear rippled across her face.
“Is that the program for the end-of-year art show at my school?” she asked. “Why do you have that?”
Josie met Noah’s eyes before striding over and picking it up. There was no point in trying to hide their questions. No point in dancing around the issue. If they had any hope of becoming a real family, of Wren opening up to them, they’d have to be as honest with her as they wanted her to be with them.
“Wren…” Josie smoothed the pamphlet along her thigh. She opened it as if that was her intention all along but really, she did what she should have done earlier. Checked that Wren’s namewas inside before she made a colossal fool of herself by basically accusing the girl of shutting them out.
Josie was vaguely aware that the room had become uncomfortably silent. After checking the student names for the third time, she looked up to see both Wren and Noah staring at her. Wren wore the same mixture of bewilderment and dismay, whereas Noah’s expression held a question. They’d been together long enough that silent communication came easy to them. He was asking if she’d seen Wren’s name on the list. Josie gave him a slight, brisk shake of her head before turning back to Wren. Later, she’d mentally congratulate herself for not being too sleep-deprived to botch this whole conversation.
Then something else occurred to her.
If Wren hadn’t been included in the art show, then why was she reacting to the pamphlet at all? This wasn’t mere recognition. It was something else. Josie’s brain was slow, but it wasn’t that hard to figure out. Wren had taken an advanced art class. Cassidy Turner’s name and face were all over the news and social media.
“Wren,” Josie said again. “Did you know Cassidy Turner?”
Wren looked between them rapidly, almost as if she was afraid she’d get in trouble if she gave the wrong answer. With what she hoped was a reassuring smile, Josie plopped onto the side of the bed and patted the space next to her. After some hesitation, Wren sat down.
Noah kept his distance, leaning casually against his dresser, leaving several feet between them. “You can talk to us about anything,” he told her. “Ask us about anything. I hope you know that.”
Wren nodded slowly.
“Was Cassidy in your art class?” Josie asked.
“Yeah. I was the only freshman in there, plus I was new, and it was kind of awkward, but she talked to me sometimes.Helped me with some assignments. Most of the kids at school have known each other since they were kids, but Cassidy said she moved here in her sophomore year. That made me feel better. We weren’t friends or anything. She hung around kids in her own grade, but she was nice to me. Totally obsessed with owls, by the way.”
Josie didn’t mention that she already knew this from her brief foray into the lives of Turner and his family.
“Earlier, on social media, I saw the thing about the girl and her mom who are missing. Um, abducted. As soon as I saw the pictures, I knew it was her. Are you guys…” Wren drifted off, as though she was searching for the right phrasing.
“We’re working that case, yes,” Noah said. “The whole department is working on it. Around the clock. Are you worried?”
“About her and her mom? Yeah. Of course.” Wren picked at the hem of her T-shirt. “In general? Like, about being abducted or something? No. I mean, no more than I usually worry about being kidnapped or assaulted or trafficked.”
Noah said, “You worry about that stuff?”
Josie shot him a withering look. “All women do.”
He raised both hands, palms out in a conciliatory gesture. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded, I promise. Believe me, I know why women worry about those things. My concern is whether you feel safe, Wren. That’s all.”
“Um, yeah, I feel safe,” she replied. “But I still worry about it. Like other women. Even if nothing happened to you, that kind of stuff is on the news or social media all the time. Sometimes things happen to people you know. Even if it doesn’t, it’s like you’re born with a perv-o-meter whether you want it or not.”
“Some people are more in tune with their perv-o-meters than others,” Josie said. “Especially depending on their prior experiences or the experiences of loved ones.”
Wren looked at her lap where her hands were clasped. “Yeah, exactly.”
“Is that what’s bothering you?” Josie asked. “This whole thing has your perv-o-meter on high alert?”
