I noticed now, for the first time, that I’d gotten my hair cut at the exact length that Sarah’s had been when she went missing. I leaned in and blinked. “Hi, Detective, what can I help you with?” I whispered to the mirror. I bowed my head, just slightly, the way Sarah always used to do when she wanted to charm someone. “Oh, really, you’re too kind.” I repeated Sarah’s words at the restaurant to see how they felt on my tongue. I smiled at my reflection. Sarah was right, I could do it.
We swam, Sarah in the shallow end while I practiced my dive. I did a jackknife off the edge of the pool and let myself drift aimlessly down, until my toes touched the rough plaster at the bottom. I floated there, eyes closed, feeling my hair swirl weightless around my face, until I couldn’t hold my breath any longer. Is this what it was like for her? Then I pushed my feet against the bottom and rose to the top, gasping for air when I surfaced, the sun on my face.
“You okay over there?” Sarah asked, running her hands through the water on either side of her raft. She didn’t like to go in the deep end and I suspected it was because she didn’t know how to swim. There would be time for that, later in the summer. I could teach her.
We lay in the afternoon sun, side by side, as if it were a normal summer day. I rolled over and looked at Sarah, her eyes closed, her thin body stretched out next to mine on the lounge. “Sarah, when Gram was here, and she wanted to talk to you on the porch that night—what did she say?”
“Huh?” Sarah shielded her eyes and looked over at me. “What made you think of that?”
I shrugged. “I just remember when you came in, you’d been crying.”
Sarah closed her eyes again and tilted her face up to the setting sun. “Gram said, ‘If it’s not really you, please never tell me.’” Sarah paused, as if thinking for a moment. “She said she wanted to die knowing that her granddaughter was okay, that she was home and safe.”
I swallowed hard and rolled over onto my stomach. We stayed together, quiet, until the sun dropped below the trees and it started to get chilly. By then, Mom had dinner on the table and Dad was on his way home. We sat down, taking our usual chairs—I now sat where Sarah always had, and she sat across from me. Before Mom served the pasta, I hadn’t been hungry at all, but somehow I found myself devouring every bite and taking seconds before Dad even had a chance to sit with us.
“Where did you girls go today? You’re both eating like wild animals!” Mom laughed.
“We just rode around, it was a great day for it,” Sarah answered. “You don’t mind that I borrowed your bike?”
“Of course not. Actually, that’s something we should bring up with the detective tonight. You know, we never did get your bike back, it was ‘evidence’ or something.”
“I bet it could use a tune-up, too,” Dad chimed in, taking the salad bowl from Sarah. “I can tinker with it this weekend if they can get it back to us.”
Sarah caught my eye across the table, as if checking to be sure I was okay. I smiled at her and she quickly changed the subject: “We had lunch today at the best café—the manager was so crazy nice,” she started, telling the story of how they comped our lunch, and the amazing carrot cake we shared for dessert.
As soon as Sarah and I started on the dishes, the doorbell rang and we knew exactly who it would be. I dried my hands slowly and closed the door to the dishwasher before turning to see Sarah, waiting for me in the doorway. Her gaze was calm and steady as she silently put an arm around my shoulders.
“Nothing, not even a cup of coffee?” Mom was saying as we walked into the living room. Detective Donally had come alone this time, so maybe it wasn’t as big a deal as we thought.
He took a seat opposite the couch and laid a large folder on the coffee table. “No, thank you,” he said, his mouth forming a grim line. He watched closely as Sarah and I sat together on the couch.
“So there’s been some news on Sarah’s case, I gather,” Dad said, hiking up his pant leg and crossing one leg over the other.
The detective took a deep breath. “Not exactly, just a new development.” He looked over at me and then opened the folder, pulling out one sheet of paper from the top. “You all know a Paula Abbot, is that correct?”
At the sound of her name, I felt my body tighten. I had been right.
“Yes, she’s a friend of Sarah’s,” Mom said quickly.
I laid a decorative pillow across my lap and traced its swirly maze pattern with my finger.
“She contacted us last week with some information, something she now says she forgot to tell us during the initial interviews, after Sarah’s disappearance,” the detective went on.
I saw Dad tilt his head to one side, suddenly interested.
“Paula says that she saw someone on that day, at the bike rack, near where Sarah’s bike was locked,” Detective Donally said.
“Wait a minute—I thought Paula hadn’t seen Sarah for days—they were fighting, wasn’t that the story?” Dad interjected.
“Yes, what was she doing at the park?” Mom asked. “Wasn’t her alibi all along that she was at home?”