Chapter 20
CHAPTER TWENTY
CORINNE WILDE - PRESENT DAY
I shove past him into Taylor’s room. “What do you mean she’s gone? I just heard you talking.” But even as I say it, I know I’m wrong. I heard him talking. I heard him calling her name, telling her dinner was ready. Asking if she was ready to eat. I never heard her answer.
…did I?
I shove the covers back on her bed. Her phone is missing, too. Her purse.
Darting past him, I rush into the bathroom, through the open door.
“I’ve checked there. She’s gone. We need to…” He spins in a circle, lost. “We need to do something.”
“Brilliant,” I bite out. “Great idea.” Of course he’s useless right now, as he ever is. Our daughter is missing, and his idea is to do…something.
I hurry to the window in her bedroom. “How did she get out? You were in the kitchen, so not the door. It had to be the window, right?”
He doesn’t answer, just stares at nothing in horror. My heart seizes as I run to the front door, dialing her number on the way. Of course he missed her. He probably had his back turned, and she snuck right past. She didn’t even need to use the window.
Her phone rings on speakerphone as I rush outside.
“Taylor!” I shout, darting off the porch until I stop short in the driveway, processing. Shoot, shoot, shoot. I spin around to find Lewis standing behind me, my blood cold. His eyes meet mine, and I don’t have to say it, but I do. “She took my car.”
His face is pale, even in the porch light, as we stare at the driveway, at the spot where my car should be. Where it was hours ago when they got home.
The air is warmer now, the humidity dampening my skin. The storm is close.
I try to call her one more time as I dash down the driveway, hoping to see taillights. Hoping we’ve caught her just in time.
Why would she leave?
I spin back. “What did you do?”
He looks at me as if I’ve slapped him. “Why do you assume I’ve done anything?”
“You took her out, and now she’s gone.”
“I was the one who realized she was missing!” He waves a hand in the air toward the driveway. “If this was my brilliant plan, don’t you think I would’ve kept that a secret until you noticed on your own?”
“You must’ve said something.” I turn back away again, trembling with rage as my call goes to voicemail once more.
“Yeah, well, it always was my fault, wasn’t it?”
I roll my eyes. “Please don’t make this about yourself right now. The storm’s on its way here, and it’s supposed to be bad. We need to find her. This isn’t about us.”
He backs away, hands up. “Forget it. I’m going to try to call her. Maybe she’ll answer me.”
“I’m going to town. I’ll look for her. You stay here in case she comes back. I need your keys.”
He turns away from me, walking inside slowly as I wait on the porch, running through ideas in my head—possibilities, questions. When he returns, he holds out his keys. “Do you think it’s smart to follow her? She’s almost eighteen. We should give her some leash—”
“Leash is a privilege you don’t get when you sneak out.” I don’t look back at him as I get into his car and drive toward town. Nearly a mile up the road, I spot taillights and slam on my brakes. They’re heading down a small, gravel road. A driveway perhaps.
It’s a risk. In America, people get shot for turning down the wrong driveway. I’ve heard worse stories on the news. But I have to do it. I dial her number again, leaving another voicemail as I turn onto the road, following the car.
“Taylor, honey. Please call me back. What’s going on?
Where did you go? You’re old enough to go on your own, but you need to tell us where you’re going and who you’ll be with.
We’ve talked about this. It isn’t safe. We need to know where to find you in case anything…
” I catch myself before I say something terrible, speak a jinx into the universe. “Just call me back, okay?”
The wind has picked up, blowing the trees wildly in my headlights, and I can feel the shift in the air even from inside the car.
I can smell the storm coming.
I drive slowly down the gravel road, and finally, a small, white house comes into view.
The car in front of me stops, and my throat goes tight.
With my headlights locked on it, I now see that this is not my car at all.
The color that looked black earlier is now clearly a dark green.
I’m here alone in the woods at a house I don’t recognize.
My heart gallops in my chest, and I slam the car into reverse, ramming the gas as the person in the car in front of me opens their door. My heart races, throat tight as he steps out.
Go. Go. Go.
Then…Conrad.
My breathing catches, and I hit the brakes, squinting.
I spot the man’s head, his face turned back to me from the car in front, eyes narrow as he tries to figure out who I am and what I’m doing. I slam on my brakes again and jam the car into park, opening my door.
“Sorry.” My hand is up. I must look like a feral animal.
I can’t breathe. “It’s…sorry, it’s me. Corinne from next door.
I didn’t realize it was you. I’m…I’m looking for Taylor.
My daughter. I thought you might’ve been her.
The taillights and everything. I just. I don’t know where she is, and you were here and…
Sorry. I, um, have you seen her, by any chance? ”
He takes half a step closer to see me better. “Corinne? You said your daughter?”
“She’s missing. Er, well, she took the car and snuck out. We’re just trying to make sure she’s okay.”
He presses his lips together, looking around. “I can’t say I’ve seen her. Did you check in town?”
My chest deflates. “That’s where I was heading when I saw your taillights.”
Behind him, the door to the little house opens and an old woman steps outside. She’s wearing a long, blue-and-white nightgown, her white hair loose around her shoulders. She looks frail. Sick.
“What’s going on?” Her voice is soft on the wind, so low I almost miss it.
“Girl from next door is missing,” Conrad informs her.
The woman doesn’t say anything as her head turns toward the woods, in the direction of our cabin.
“I’m going to go,” I say. “Will you please keep an eye out for her?”
“Sure thing,” Conrad says. “She’ll turn up. Ain’t many places to go in a town like this. Let me get these groceries inside, and then I’ll drive around and help you look. I’ll let you know if I see her.”
“Thank you,” I breathe out, my voice cracking. “Thank you.”