Chapter 18
EIGHTEEN
JUDY
Present Day
Clutching the phone, I sink onto the bed. “Who is this? Where’s my daughter?”
“This is Saul Daniels, ma’am. You told me to call if I remembered anything.”
“What…?” Relief and dread collide in my chest. “What do you remember?”
There’s a pause on the other end. Like he’s deciding whether to say anything.
“Well, I got a good memory,” he says. “Always have. Being a fisherman, you notice things some people might not. When you showed me that photo of your girl… something stuck with me, but I didn’t understand what until this morning.”
My mind is racing now, and when I speak, I can barely get the words out. “Wh… What is it?” Can he just get to the point?
“She was wearing a bracelet, wasn’t she? A thin silver band.”
I frown. “A bracelet? I didn’t notice—”
“In the photo you and your husband showed me. She was wearing a silver bracelet on her left wrist.”
“She was?” I immediately snatch the envelope off the dresser and extract the photograph. I hold it up to catch the light from the window.
And there it is, a thin band of silver around Sadie’s small wrist. What does it mean?
“Well, she… she does… did wear jewelry sometimes.”
“Not that kind,” Saul replies. “I was told that those who stay in the camp, not visitors, wear those silver bracelets. I hear they call them permanent residents. Saw some kids wearing them around town since a year or two. Staff members get them too.”
The air bursts from my lungs and my pulse roars in my ears. “Permanent residents. Are you saying she—? You think she didn’t drown or run? That she stayed in the camp?”
“I’m only saying…” I know he’s about to choose his words carefully. “I can’t say that. I’m just telling you what I know.”
But it’s too late because stagnant hope has already erupted inside me.
Sadie didn’t run. She wasn’t taken by Hastings’ friends. She stayed in the camp.
“Thank you, Saul,” I whisper. “I’m so thankful.”
Saul tries to caution me not to read too much into the bracelet, but I press the red button on my phone before he can finish. The fragile bubble of possibility that’s just formed inside me, I can’t bear to have it punctured.
The phone drops onto the bed because my hands are shaking so much.
There’s only one way to find out if what I suspect is true.
Change of plans. I will no longer go to Grace Kitchen. Instead, I pick up the phone again and call Alice.
“Have you found out anything about the adult program at the camp yet?”
“Oh, yes. I was going to tell you tomorrow evening when I came by.”
“What do you know?”
“It is true. There is one, but it’s still in beta and not advertised. It’s mostly referral-based.”
My heart slams against my ribs. “How does one get in?”
“I got a booking number from someone who works there,” she says slowly, suspicious.
“Send it to me.”
“Judy… are you sure? Is everything okay?”
“Yes.”
“All right, I’ll text it. Can I ask why you want to check yourself in?”
I pause. “I want to feel closer to Sadie.”
“I get it,” Alice says. “I hope you manage to get a room.”
The text arrives exactly a minute after I hang up.
I stare at the number on the small screen, put down the phone and walk back into the kitchen.
Gabriel and Scarlett look up immediately.
Gabriel narrows his eyes at me. “What happened?”
“Saul called.” Unable to hold back my excitement, I tell them what he said.
Scarlett’s hand flies to her mouth, tears flooding her eyes and immediately trickling down her cheeks. “You think—” she begins.
“I think she’s still there. I think she did not want to come home and begged them to keep her.”
Gabriel exhales sharply. “The bracelet doesn’t prove anything.”
I get it. He does not want to believe it’s true only to be let down.
“It proves enough,” I snap. “And I’m going in. I think she’s still there.”
Gabriel rubs his face. “Judy, that’s a stretch.”
“Is it?” I hold up the photo. “Why would she be wearing something only permanent residents wear? It doesn’t make sense.”
Scarlett’s eyes are glassy now. “You really think maybe… that she asked to stay? Why would they let her? She is a minor.”
I don’t know. But the words slice through me. The idea that my own daughter would ask to stay elsewhere and not come back to us is a knife in my heart. But it means she’s alive. “You both know what an angry teenager she was… so angry,” I whisper. “We were fighting before she left, remember?”
Gabriel stiffens. “Many teenagers are like that.” He sucks in a breath. “If you really think that she’s in there, that she stayed, why don’t we just call them and ask?”
“They’re hardly going to tell me over the phone. They have been silent for six months, said nothing during the investigation. Maybe she told them stuff and they think they are protecting her. I heard they sometimes house kids from broken homes.” My voice breaks a little then.
“Our home is not…” Gabriel shakes his head. “How do you want to get in there exactly?”
“There’s an adult program now,” I reply. “Alice mentioned it. I just called her and she gave me the booking number.”
Scarlett shakes her head slowly. “Judy…”
“I’m going in, Scarlett.”
“To confront them?”
“No.” My voice softens. “To find my daughter and convince her to come home.”
They don’t stop me when I walk back to the bedroom.
I sit on the bed and dial before I can talk myself out of it.
The camp staff won’t recognize me as Sadie’s mother right away, I don’t think.
My face and name were never in the papers.
I was also too torn up to do any of the media appearances.
Each time the producers called us in, I’d nod and agree to speak, only to dissolve into tears minutes before the cameras rolled.
Eventually, Gabriel started going alone, sparing me the humiliation of another breakdown in the green room.
“Saltspray Cove Center,” a woman answers brightly. “How can I help you?”
“I was wondering if you have any rooms available.” I keep my voice steady. “For the adult retreat.”
There’s a pause, keys tapping. “May I have your name?”
“Judy Ellis.”
Another pause. This one is longer and heavier.
“I’m afraid we’re fully booked at the moment, Miss Ellis,” she confirms at last. “This is a beta program and we are not taking many people at the moment.”
“That’s a shame. I was referred to you. The thing is, I’ve been going through a… difficult time in my life. A lot of stress and depression. I’ve tried other programs and nothing has helped. I was told this place is different.”
Silence.
“Please hold,” the woman says.
Soft music filters through the line, thin and tinny. I grip the phone tighter, listening. Then the music cuts out.
I hear voices. Muffled. Close. One of them quieter than the rest, calm and firm, speaking just out of reach.
The line clicks.
“This is admissions,” a new woman announces. Her voice is composed and practiced. The kind that doesn’t rush and doesn’t explain itself. “I understand you’re looking to book a stay with us.”
“Yes. I was just told there weren’t any rooms left.”
“There was a misunderstanding,” she replies smoothly. “We do have one room available.”
My pulse stutters. “One?”
“Yes. The last.”
“When?” I ask, barely breathing.
“As soon as tomorrow, if that works for you.”
“Yes, that works perfectly.”
“We specialize in restorative care,” she continues. “You’ll find our environment very supportive. Structured. Safe.”
Safe. The word lands strangely.
“We’ll take care of the intake process when you arrive, Miss Ellis. All paperwork can be completed on-site.”
“Thank you. I really appreciate this.”
“We look forward to welcoming you,” she replies.
When I return to the kitchen to tell Gabriel and Scarlett, the first thing I hear as I near the end of the hallway is furious whispering. Is Gabriel trying to convince Scarlett to stop me, like he did when they were on the beach?
I remain out of sight behind the wall, listening.
“I can’t do this anymore.” Scarlett’s voice carries over to me, tight with strain. “She’ll eventually find out. She deserves to know, Gabriel. When I came on this trip, I made myself a promise that I will tell her. What if she finds her and—?”
“It will destroy her,” Gabriel hisses. “You can’t—”
I step around the corner. “Can’t what?” I look from one to the other.
They freeze like guilty children, Gabriel’s hand suspended mid-gesture.
“What exactly is going to destroy me?” My voice sounds hollow in my own ears. “What don’t I know?”
Scarlett’s face crumples, her shoulders curving inward. Tears spill over, her chest heaving with uneven gasps.
“Scarlett?” I’m at her side before I can think, my anger momentarily forgotten. Her hand trembles beneath mine.
She lifts her head, tears catching the light. “There’s something I’ve kept from you.” Her voice breaks. “And when I tell you, you’ll never forgive me.”