Warm, maybe. Attentive in a quiet way. She was the kind of person who noticed things other people missed and asked questions no one else thought to ask. She could be funny too—but it was a dry, understated humor that slipped out when you weren’t expecting it.
But openly cheerful? Bright in that outward, uncomplicated way?
That wasn’t the sister Kori knew.
Had Mackenzie changed?
“She always does that,” Flo continued. “Brings me something when she’s heading out. Says she likes knowing someone will notice if she doesn’t come back.”
Kori’s breath hitched at Flo’s words, but she forced herself to remain grounded.
Kori had once been the person Mackenzie had checked in with. The one Mackenzie had told about her bad days, about new restaurants she’d tried, and about her new favorite TV show.
And she still would have if things hadn’t gone south between them.
Kori swallowed hard before asking, “Do you have a key to her apartment?”
Flo produced it from her cardigan pocket, and Kori took it from her, murmuring a quick thanks. Then Flo dismissed herself, claiming she needed to check on a pie she was baking.
Kori’s hands trembled as she unlocked the door, though she tried to hide her nerves. Finally, she got it open and stepped inside.
She scanned the space.
Mackenzie’s apartment held the comfortable disorder of someone whose mind moved faster than her hands. A stack of books sat on the coffee table—some on cybersecurity, others on things Kori didn’t recognize—with receipts and folded scraps of paper marking her place. A mug rested on the kitchen counter, half-finished and long gone cold. The throw blanket on the couch was bunched at one end, as if she’d been sitting there recently and simply gotten up when something caught her attention.
As Kori observed the space, Wyatt paced the room. He took in the details the way she imagined he took in the forest—methodically and without rushing.
He paused in the middle of the room and asked, “What does your sister do for work?”
“She’s a network analyst for a small security company.” Kori moved toward the desk in the corner. “She was offered the job remotely, and because of that she could live anywhere she wanted. She picked Blue Ridge Hollow.”
Wyatt grunted in response.
Kori sat at her sister’s desk, wondering if something here might hold some answers. She wasn’t even sure what she was looking for. A map? Some notes Mackenzie had scribbled about the hike?
A laptop sat closed in front of her, a sticker plastered across the top reading “UserError.” That sounded like her sister’s humor.
While Kori had always been driven, focused, and responsible, Mackenzie had been intuitive, adventure-seeking, and free-spirited.
Kori opened the laptop.
It was password protected, of course.
Kori tried their mother’s birthday first. January nineteenth.
Wrong.
Then she tried their father’s birthday. March third.
Also wrong.
She leaned back.
She was running out of easy, logical ideas—dates she felt confident about. Which was its own uncomfortable realization.
At one time, she’d known her sister’s coffee order, what size jeans she wore, and what time she liked to go to bed. But Kori didn’t know what was important to Mackenzie now.
Had she changed? Certainly she had. Kori had changed. Her parents’ deaths and then her estrangement from Mackenzie had affected her in major ways. The only good that had come from it was that she’d returned to her faith.
