“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I don’t even know myself, ” he says.“The last few days, I’ve tried to remember and prod Aisha and Sloane for what they remember, but I don’t have any proof. I have this gut feeling. And I can’t plant some hopeful seed in Sloane’s or Aisha’s heads if it’s going to wilt. Not until I’m sure.”
“But if there’s even a chance—”
“I don’t have any proof, Jo. I knew if I said something, you’d plunge into the woods and try to find us, but there might be nothing to find. You might get yourself killed, or whatever we are, too.”
“You don’t know that I’d do that,” I say, aware it’s a lie the moment I do.
“I do,” Finn says.“Because I know you, Jo, even if you don’t want to admit it.”
“You’re going to explain. And you’re going to do it right now,” I say, voice practically a snarl. But under the anger, there is another creature. Hope, small and thin, but there.
Finn’s shoulders sink. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. He makes his way over to the window, peering through the crack in the blinds. He doesn’t say anything for so long I think he’s not going to.
“I don’t know much,” he says.“No one ever found our bodies. And we’ve spent years searching. We’ve scoured your house, the woods, even your neighbor’s house across the street. But there’s nothing.”He takes a shaky breath.“When you found Ingrid’s bracelet, I wondered if she’d dropped it on purpose. Like a breadcrumb. And if that breadcrumb would lead right across the creek to the power plant.”
“The old power plant?”
He nods.“We can’t go farther than the creek, but Sloane used to screw around out there when she was…”When she wasn’t like this.“She says there’s a giant fence around it. An updated fence. So I figure maybe that’s where we are.”
“But you don’t know?”
He shrugs, helpless.“That’s the truth. I don’t know. I don’t even know if we’re still alive, but it’s the only thing that makes sense. We’re stuck for a few years, and then…”
“You fade,” I say.
His nose scrunches.
“Except, it’s not fading. It’s—”
“Dying.”
“Yes,” he says, the word an exhale.“It makes more sense. When one of us starts to…give out, another kid disappears. If we really are alive, that pattern makes some sense.”He catches my eyes and abruptly looks away.
Jasper.
But that means…
“You’re dying,” I say.
This time, when Finn closes his eyes, he doesn’t open them. He says, “Yeah,” in a hushed breath.
A car pulls into the driveway—Paige. The engine shuts off, and car doors slam as footsteps clamber up the porch. The front door bangs open.
Right behind the Prius are two police cars, their sirens blaring.
“Please, Jo. I know I should have told you, but I didn’t think there was anything to tell. If I thought for even a second—”
I don’t stop to hear the rest of his apologies. I’m already out my bedroom door, running down the stairs to what’s left of my family. My brother is gone, Finn is dying, Aisha and Sloane are trapped, and I am here, utterly unable to do a thing about it.
Twenty-Nine
The most important thing Ilearned from years of watching procedural investigation shows with Harper? The first forty-eight hours after a person goes missing are the most crucial. And with each minute, the missing person gets farther away and harder to find.
Two hours ago, the detectives followed my family home from the bookstore, and another squad car pulled up behind them, four rookies spilling out in separate directions to search. One hour ago, a third squad car came. This one had a dog in it.
Browning and Gonzales have asked every question under the sun, and then some. Jasper’s habits, his favorite places to go. Whether we have any other family in the area, or anywhere, for that matter. If my mother has any enemies. If my aunt does. Where my dad is and why he isn’t here.
