Bertram is answering whatever question was asked, but most of the people in the room are watching—and filming—us.
I forget about all of the eyes and phones on us a second later as Marguerite whispers frantically, “It’s Ivy. She’s missing.”
Nineteen
Blake
If I were to make a list of the top ten worst places to lose one of my kids, San Diego Comic-Con would be number one.There are other places with potentially more people, sure—football stadiums and concerts and maybe even amusement parks—but nowhere else are the attendees so laser-focused on spotting celebrities in crowds as dense and impenetrable as a jungle. A deep, colorful, cosplay-filled jungle where an angry twelve-year-old girl could easily disappear.
I don’t apologize toTroy—which we’re all going to pay for later—when I tell one of the con staff that we’re having a family emergency and step out of the panel room.The hall is full of people waiting for the next panel, and several of them make a move toward me with various things in their hands that they no doubt want me to sign.
The security guard thankfully does his job, stepping between me and the fans and ushering Kim and Marguerite and a beleaguered-looking Luke behind him. “Private party,” he says to the fans, and herds us into a smallish room nearby that isn’t currently in use.
“Oh my god,” Kim says to Marguerite. “What happened?”
“She took my phone again,” Marguerite says. “And she texted that boy.”
Marguerite holds out the phone for us to see, and sure enough, there are a few text messages, in which Ivy and presumably Chris arrange to meet outside the convention hall.
I want to shake Ivy.There were a lot of reasons we didn’t want her talking to him, reasons I didn’t go into detail about because I didn’t want to scare her, because somehow I guess I thought I still had some kind of sway over her just because I’m her father. But clearly I should have recognized the moment that I lost all control, should have scared her much more than I did, because then maybe she wouldn’t be running around San Diego with an older boy that I still know next to nothing about.
“We’ve already been to their meeting place,” Marguerite says. She looks close to tears, and Luke and Kim look the same. “It’s the first place I went, but they were long gone. Security is looking for her. She just—one minute she was there, and the next she was gone, and I—”
“It’s okay,” I tell her. “If Ivy wanted to give us the slip, she would have, no matter who was with her. It’s not your fault.” I put a hand on Luke’s shoulder. “Maybe you and Luke should go get a soda or something.”
Marguerite doesn’t look convinced that this wasn’t her fault, and I’m sure in her position I’d feel the same way. But if she’s already told everything she knows to security, there’s not much more she can do.
“Thank you,” I say, and she herds Luke out. As he shuffles past us, he reaches for Kim’s hand.
“What about Ivy?” he asks. “Is she gone forever?”
Kim freezes, like she doesn’t know what to say, and I know all the horrible things that must be going through her head, because they’re also going through mine.
“No, buddy,” I tell him. “She just ran off to meet a friend. She wasn’t supposed to do that, so we’re upset, but she’ll be back, okay?”
“But we bothered you while you were working,” Luke says. “We’re never supposed to bother you while you’re working.”
I hate that my kid thinks this, but Kim and I are generally unreachable while we’re filming, so it’s not unjustified. “It’s okay,” I tell him. “You guys did the right thing.”
He nods. Kim wraps him in a tight hug, and then Marguerite ushers him off.
It’s going to take more than a soda to calm them both down.
Kim grips my hand and turns to the security guard. “Do you need a description of her? Any ideas where we could look?”
The guard squirms a bit, like he doesn’t want to tell her what he’s about to say. “We’ve got the entire security team on the lookout for her. Your nanny gave us a description of what she’s wearing, but if she met up with a friend outside the convention center, she might have left the premises. At that point, there’s nothing we can do.”
“We need to get out there and look,” I say. But even as the words leave my mouth, I know this is impossible. We’ll be recognized instantly and will have to shoulder through mobs of fans who want to get pictures and autographs.
“Except that we’re about the last people who could be doing that,” Kim says.
I close my eyes. I hate to say this, but we don’t really have any other options. “We need to report this to the police.”
Kim nods, as does the security guard. “I’ll get one of our on-site officers to come talk to you.”
Then he disappears.
Kim’s knees seem to give out from underneath her, and she sinks into a chair.This room looks like it’s used for small conferences, and I hope that we aren’t about to be invaded by attendees of some scheduled event.
