“Rinse the glass before drinking. Old habits and all that, huh? I remember when that started,” she continues with a low chuckle. “You found a spider in a mug. You’d already taken a sip before you saw it. You wouldn’t drink from anything without rinsing it after that.”
Despite everything, I let out a quiet breath that almost resembles a laugh. I hadn’t thought about that in years.
“I haven’t forgotten.” Megan looks around the room, then approaches the window, glancing out at the dark grounds.
“I meant what I said earlier,” she says. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“I’m glad to see you too, Megan. But I came because of Sadie,” I say, sitting on the bed.
“I understand. When I gave up my child it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my entire life. I can’t even imagine…” Her voice trails off and she turns to face me.
I twist my hands in my lap. “We actually came back to give her a funeral. If you can even call it that without a body. We wanted to say goodbye. Then I received the photo and the message that Sadie’s alive.”
“When you arrived in town?” She shakes her head. “Did you consider taking it to the police? Maybe they could check for fingerprints. I would do that if I were you.”
I tell her about the warning not to go to the authorities and her eyebrows shoot up. “I can’t believe anyone would do something like that to a mother. I understand why you want to hold on to the hope that Sadie is alive but?—”
“It’s just…the bracelet. I still don’t understand why the person would photoshop that onto her wrist if she’s not here.”
Megan glances down at her wrist, then slips off a slim silver band she’s wearing. “Did it look like this one?” She places it in my palm.
“Yes,” I say, turning it over.
“A family that sends their two kids here every year own a jewelry store. They donated these a few years ago. You can keep it,” she adds. “To remember me and this place by.”
I wrap my fingers around it. “Thank you. At first I thought Sadie was kidnapped. Then when I saw the bracelet, I thought perhaps she begged to stay here. That maybe she didn’t want to come home.”
Megan’s expression softens. “She couldn’t have stayed without your consent. If she had begged to stay, we would have notified the accompanying adult and called her parents.”
She takes my hand, the one holding the bracelet, and squeezes it. “I’m sorry you can’t get the answers you’re seeking here. But maybe there’s something I can do to help before you leave. If you took a look around, would it help you feel a connection with Sadie?”
“Yes, please. I would love that.” I dab at my eyes with the back of my hand.
“In that case, tomorrow, after breakfast, one of the staff will bring you to my office, and I will give you a tour of the property. I’ll take you to the room she stayed in.”
TWENTY-NINE
I manage to fall asleep maybe only two hours before dawn. When I wake again, pale light is already filtering through the curtains. I blink at my watch. Seven.
Soft music drifts through the window. It was so hot and stuffy last night that I tilted it open. There are distant instrumental tones layered with birdsong and a low chime.
Dragging myself out of bed, I stand beside the plant that failed to hide my phone yesterday. Looking out at the lush garden sprinkled with vibrant flowers, thoughts of yesterday tighten my throat.
Finding out that Sadie is not here. That I came for nothing, except perhaps to find out a little more about what her final days here were like.
My stomach cramps sharply with hunger, and perhaps anxiety. I need to force myself to eat something at breakfast.
When I come into the dining hall at eight, only about ten tables are still occupied.
“Good morning, Miss Ellis,” says one of the staff members, the waiter I saw yesterday, serving the other adult on the pilot program. His name tag reads Jordan, and in his hand is a white coffee pot.
“Fresh coffee for you, ma’am?” He lifts the pot just a little. “Or would you prefer to start the day with a healthy kick instead? Our signature smoothie of the day is a blend of exotic fruits and greens…guava, kale?—”
“I’ll just have a coffee, thank you.”
“Of course.” Jordan proceeds to fill my cup with the hot liquid.
He smiles and leaves to approach a guest at a nearby table: Quinn, the woman I got to meet yesterday.
