“What do you do on a regular basis, besides meet guys on Tinder and go to their homes? Hang out with Aisha?”
“I’m a teacher’s assistant at a small parish school and I’m studying elementary education. I hang out with my friends and drink occasionally.”
“Drink?” he raised an eyebrow. “That’s not legal.”
“I guess you have reason to arrest me then.”
“You clearly have no issues being arrested even though it’ll go on your record, and I don’t know about you, but I don’t know many teachers with records.”
“So, what’s up with this?” I nodded at the picture, ignoring his analysis of me.
“This is a missing girl.” He raised the picture up. “I just spent the last two hours trying to grasp what the possibilities could be and the only one I can come up with is that you’re sisters.”
“Yeah right.” I scoffed. “I don’t have a sister.”
“You were both adopted on the same day from the same place, St. Nicolas’ Orphanage. You have the same birthday. You both attend Ellis University. She lives a block away from campus, you live a few blocks down. Have you ever looked into who your birth parents were?”
I let myself process his words before nodding, unable to form words over the knot in my throat. Of course I’d tried to look for my birth parents. Tried and failed. I didn’t have the kind of money I needed to hire an investigator or lawyer who would actually fight with me against the orphanage I’d come from, especially since it was funded by the Catholic Church. Even Karen, who was a devout Catholic and had donated half of her measly paychecks to the church most of her life, had no pull in that department. I glanced at the picture again. A sister. A twin sister. Hope bloomed inside me. It was the kind of hope life had repeatedly squashed until I no longer believed it existed, yet there it was again, rearing its head and trying to seep through.
“Miss Guerra,” he said.
“The orphanage told us that it was a closed adoption. My mother—my adoptive mother—helped me once. She said they were pretty clear about not going back and asking more questions.”
“Are you close to her?”
“To Karen?” I pursed my lips. “I guess. Life has kicked her down a lot, to the point that she’s decided to self-medicate, but it’s okay since she’s drinking Jesus’s blood all day until she passes out.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“That’s life.” I shrugged again, then looked at the picture of the girl who wasn’t me. “So, she’s missing?”
“She was last seen leaving her apartment and headed to The Manor. Have you heard of The Manor?”
“Ummm . . . ” I paused, rummaging through my memory bank, which remains nearly blank. “I don’t think so. Is it a club?”
“It’s a house, actually.”
“Oh. I definitely haven’t heard of it.”
“Are you familiar with the secret societies at Ellis?”
“You mean the weirdos in cloaks? Yeah, who isn’t.”
“Well, the red cloaks, they live in The Manor. Or have parties there. I’m not really sure what else goes on there.”
“So, she’s part of the secret society?”
“We’re not sure. We know she got an invitation from them before she disappeared.”
“When was this?”
“On Friday.”
“It’s Sunday.”
“Yes.”
“And you’re already this deep into this?” I felt my brows rise. “What’s her name?”
“Who?”
“My sister.”
“Stella.”
“Stella,” I repeated. “Is she rich?”
“What?”
“My sister. Is she rich?”
“Why would you ask that?”
“Why else would the police be so heavily involved in the disappearance of a brown girl who’s only been gone a day, maybe two?”
He stayed quiet for a moment. “Let’s just say her father is very important, and besides the fact that he wants to find his daughter, he can’t have this happening now.”
“So, she’s rich.”
“We would do it for anyone.”
“Sure. What about her mother? What does she do?”
“Her mother isn’t in the picture.”
“She died?”
“No, she’s just not in the picture.”
“Hm.”
“Her father has a proposal for you.”
“Her father knows about me?”
“He does now. He knows we picked you up. He’s watching from the other room.” Detective Barry nodded his head toward the glass. I looked over and stared, wishing I could see the man on the other side.
“What’s the proposal?”
“He wants you to go to The Manor as Stella.”
“What?” I looked between Detective Barry and the mirror. “Did you already go to The Manor? Did you look around and ask and do your job?”
“Of course we did. They claim she never showed up there.”
“That sounds like bullshit.”
“It’s our word against theirs.”
“So you want me to pretend I’m her and show up there?”
“That’s the only plan we have right now.”
“Are you serious? What kind of a cop are you? If she really did disappear there or if they did something to her or whatever, they’d never buy it.”
“No, but they’d be spooked enough to talk.” The voice came from the overhead speaker and made me jump in my seat.
“With as much money and connections as you probably have, I’m sure you can think of another way to break them down.” I looked at the glass.
“This isn’t the first time someone has gone missing,” Detective Barry said.
“No shit. I know that. Didn’t a girl die last year because of one of the secret societies?”
“That was an unfortunate circumstance and nothing like this one.” That was the dad’s voice again.
“Why doesn’t he just come into the room?”
“Legalities,” Detective Barry said. “You can always just be yourself and go to The Manor and say you’re looking for her. I’ll drive you there myself.”
“Don’t you want a chance at having a sister?” the voice in the other room asked.
“Of course I do.” I shot the glass a pointed look and hoped the glare made its way to the other side. “But this is crazy and doesn’t make sense and I don’t want to die.”
“We’d wipe your records,” he said. “No school is going to hire someone with a record. We’ll pay off your student debt.”
“You’re just going to give me money, just like that?” I raised an eyebrow. “What if I don’t find her? What if she’s . . . ” I inhale the word before it spills out of my mouth.
“She’s not dead. As far as the money, you keep it and do whatever you want with it,” the man said.
“And the secret society pays fifty grand for joining,” Detective Barry added.