A light rain starts to fall, and Nana switches on windshield wipers that squeak with every pass. “Sarah was my thinker,” she says finally. “She read constantly, and questioned everything. People thought she was quiet, but she had the sort of dry humor that snuck up on you. She loved Rob Reiner movies—you know, Spinal Tap, The Princess Bride?” I nod, even though I’ve never seen the first one. I make a mental note to look it up on Netflix when we get home. “Sarah could quote them all by heart. Very smart girl, especially in math and science. She liked astronomy and used to talk about working for NASA when she grew up.”
I absorb the words like a thirsty sponge, amazed that Nana told me so much in one fell swoop. And all I had to do was ask. What a concept. “Did she and my mom get along?” I ask. They sound so different, even more so than I’d imagined.
“Oh yes. Thick as thieves. Finished each other’s sentences, like you and your brother do. They were very distinct personalities, but could mimic one another like you wouldn’t believe. Used to fool people all the time.”
“Airport Andy would be jealous,” I say, before forgetting that I never told Nana the absorbed-twin story.
Nana frowns. “What?”
“Nothing. Just a joke.” I swallow the small lump that’s formed in my throat. “Sarah sounds great.”
“She was marvelous.” There’s a warmth to Nana’s voice I’ve never heard before, not even when she talks about her former students. Definitely not when she talks about my mother. Maybe that was another thing about Echo Ridge that Sadie couldn’t stand.
“Do you think— Could she still … be somewhere?” I fumble over the words, my fingers twisting the chain at my neck. “I mean, like she ran away or something?” I regret it as soon as I say it, like I’m accusing Nana of something, but she just shakes her head decisively.
“Sarah would never.” Her voice drops a little, like the words hold too much weight.
“I wish I could have met her.”
Nana pulls into a parking spot in front of Dalton’s and shifts the Subaru into park. “So do I.” I sneak a glance at her, afraid I’ll see tears, but her eyes are dry and her face relaxed. She doesn’t seem to mind talking about Sarah at all. Maybe she’s been waiting for someone to ask. “Could you grab the bag from the backseat please, Ellery?”
“Okay,” I say. My thoughts are a tangled whirl, and I nearly drop the plastic bag into the rain-soaked gutter next to the sidewalk when I get out of the car. I wrap the bag’s handles around my wrist to keep it secure, and follow Nana inside Dalton’s Emporium.
The cashier greets Nana like an old friend, and graciously takes the pile of clothes without asking the reason for the return. She’s scanning tags I never removed when a high, sweet voice floats through the store. “I want to see myself in the big window, Mommy!” Seconds later a girl in a gauzy blue dress appears, and I recognize Melanie Kilduff’s daughter. It’s the little one, about six years old, and she stops short when she sees us.
“Hello, Julia,” Nana says. “You look very nice.”
Julia catches the hem of her dress in one hand and fans it out. She’s like a tiny version of Melanie, right down to the gap between her front teeth. “It’s for my dance recital.”
Melanie appears behind her, trailed by a pretty preteen with crossed arms and a sulky expression. “Oh, hi,” Melanie says with a rueful smile as Julia runs for a raised dais surrounded by mirrors near the front of the store. “Julia wants to see herself onstage, as she calls it.”
“Well, of course she does,” the clerk says indulgently. “That dress was made to be seen.” A phone rings behind her, and she disappears into a back room to answer it. Nana lifts her purse off the counter as Julia hops onto the dais and spins, the dress’s skirt floating around her.
“I look like a princess!” she crows. “Come look, Caroline!” Melanie follows and fusses with the bow on the back of the dress, but the older daughter hangs behind, her mouth pulling downward.
“A princess,” she mutters under her breath, staring at the rack of homecoming dresses to our right. “What a stupid thing to want to be.”
Maybe Caroline isn’t thinking about Lacey, or the dolls at the cemetery with their red-spattered gowns. Maybe she’s just being a moody almost teenager, annoyed at getting dragged along for her little sister’s shopping expedition. Or maybe it’s more than that.
As Julia twirls again, a bolt of hot, white anger pulses through me. It’s not a normal reaction to such an innocent moment—but the common thread running through this store isn’t normal, either. We’ve all lost our version of a princess, and none of us know why. I’m sick of being tangled up in Echo Ridge’s secrets, and of the questions that never end. I want answers. I want to help this little girl and her sister, and Melanie, and Nana. And my mother.
I want to do something. For the missing girls, and the ones left behind.
CHAPTER NINE
Malcolm
Thursday, September 19
“What’s up, loser?” I tense a split second before Kyle McNulty’s shoulder rams into mine, so I stumble but don’t crash against the locker bay. “Your dickhead brother still in town?”
“Fuck you, McNulty.” It’s my standard response to Kyle, no matter the situation, and it’s never not applicable.
Kyle’s jaw twitches as Theo smirks beside him. I used to play football with both of them in elementary school, back when my father was still hoping I’d turn into Declan 2.0. We weren’t friends then, but we didn’t actively hate one another. That started in middle school. “He’d better stay the hell away from my sister,” Kyle spits.
“Declan couldn’t care less about your sister,” I say. It’s true, and ninety percent of the reason Kyle can’t stand me. He scowls, edging closer, and I curl my right hand into a fist.
“Malcolm, hey.” A voice sounds behind me as a hand tugs at my sleeve. I turn to see Ellery leaning against a locker, her head tilted, holding one of those Echo Ridge High Month-at-a-Glance calendars that most people recycle instantly. Her expression is preoccupied, and I’d almost believe she didn’t notice she was interrupting a near fight if her eyes didn’t linger on Kyle a few seconds too long. “Do you mind showing me where the auditorium is? I know we have assembly now, but I can’t remember where to go.”
“I can give you a hint,” Kyle sneers. “Away from this loser.”
I flush with anger, but Ellery just gives him a distracted nod. “Oh, hi, Kyle. Did you know your zipper’s down?”
Kyle’s eyes drop automatically to his pants. “No it’s not,” he complains, adjusting it anyway as Theo snorts out a laugh.