The Shadow Girl

18




I hurry down the hallway, my fingers fumbling across the buttons on my phone until I find the right one. “Hello,” I gasp.

“Hi. Is this Lily Winston?” The man’s voice is deep. Uncertain.

“Yes.” I duck into the small restroom, lock the door, and lean against it, out of breath.

“This is Jake Milano.”

Without warning, Iris rises up in me in such a dizzying spin that I have to reach out and grab the edge of the sink to keep from swaying. “Jake! Mr. Milano. I’ve been waiting to hear from you.”

“My mother told me that you’re Iris Marshall’s sister?”

“Yes. I am.”

A movement over the sink catches my attention. I look up to see my own reflection in the mirror, but for an instant I think I’m seeing Iris’s excited face staring back at me. You did it, I tell her. You led me to him.

“Um . . . this is . . . ,” Jake stammers. “I didn’t realize—”

“My sister passed away before I was born,” I break in, talking too fast. “But I only found out about her recently. For some reason, my parents never told me about Iris.”

“How did you know about me?”

“I was going through some of Dad’s things and I found a note that you’d written to Iris.”

After a long pause, he says, “My mother told me you’re seventeen.”

“That’s right.”

“Wow,” Jake says under his breath.

“I’m hoping you can answer some questions for me. My mother won’t talk about my sister. She won’t even admit that she and Dad ever lived in Massachusetts. I don’t have any idea why they changed their names and moved here after Iris died, or why they didn’t stay in touch with anyone in Winterhaven. Do you know?”

“I have an idea,” he says slowly. “But if we’re going to talk I need proof that you’re really her sister.”

A little defensive, I say, “But I am. Why would I make up something like that?”

“Don’t take offense. It’s just—” Jake breaks off, and when he speaks again, his voice is thick with sorrow. “Iris was my first love. I was only eighteen when she died, and I felt like I died, too. It took me a long time to move on. And now, all these years later, here you are, calling me. . . .”

“I understand,” I say, moved by his emotional response.

“I need to see you. Where do you live, Lily?”

“Silver Lake, Colorado.”

“I think I know where that is. I live in Nashville now. I can see about getting a plane ticket out there to meet you. Where’s the nearest airport to Silver Lake? Colorado Springs?”

“You’d come here?” I clench the phone tighter. “We’d have to be careful. My mom is so sensitive about Iris, and I don’t think she could handle seeing you.”

“I wouldn’t have to see her. We could meet somewhere in town. I can be there in a couple of days.”

“Wait. That won’t work. I forgot I’m leaving on a trip tonight with a friend.” I bite my thumbnail, thinking. “What if we meet you halfway?”

“Tonight?” he says with surprise. “You’re driving?”

“Yes. Do you know where the midpoint would be?”

“Oklahoma City, probably.” He pauses for two beats, then says, “I guess I could do that.”

“Great!” I blurt out, nervous and thrilled at once.

“I can throw some things together and leave in a couple of hours, I suppose.”

“How long do you think it’ll take you to get there?” I ask.

“If Silver Lake’s where I think it is, you should make it in around eight hours. It’ll be a bit longer for me, but close enough.”

His easy agreement to drive that distance tonight makes me realize Jake is as anxious as I am to meet. I’m glad that Ty will be with me. I can’t imagine he won’t agree to make the stop.

“I have your number in my phone,” I say. “We could stay in touch along the way and decide on a meeting place once we’re there.”

“Okay, Lily. I’ll see you soon.”

I tell him good-bye, then before he can break the connection, say, “Jake? Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” With a half laugh, he adds, “This is nuts, you know. If I’d known I was going to be driving all night, I would’ve taken a nap after work.”

I laugh, too. “Yeah, it’s sort of unexpected.”

“I have one other request.”

“Sure. What is it?”

“Drive safely, Lily.”

I smile. “You, too.”

See you soon, whispers Iris. I’ve waited so long.

After breaking the connection, I hear a tap at the door.

“Hey, Lily. You in there?” Sylvie rasps. “The Goob sent me to look for you.”

“Yeah, just a sec.” I open the door a crack and peek out. “Anybody else out there?”

“Nope.”

I let Sylvie in and lock up again. “I’m not ready to see Wyatt yet.”

“Don’t wait too long. He’s wondering where you are.” Sylvie looks at herself in the mirror, wrinkles her nose, bares her teeth, and rubs her finger across them. She points at her pink hair. “What do you think? Should I have gone with green? Or maybe kept it black and put a white stripe down the center?”

“Like a skunk?” I ask, glad she showed up when she did so I won’t dwell too much on my nervousness.

“Yeah, like a skunk. Why not?”

“Wyatt told me once that moufette means ‘skunk’ in French. Knowing Wyatt, he’d start calling you that, and you don’t look like a Moufette to me.”

With a bad French accent Sylvie flutters her eyelashes and mutters, “Ooh-la-la, Moufette.” She faces me and frowns. “Good point. I’ll stick with pink.”

“Will you tell Wyatt that I’ll be out in a few minutes? Tell him I have a stomachache or something.”

“Do I have a sign on my forehead that says ‘personal messenger’? Sheesh.” Turning, Sylvie reaches for the doorknob.

“Wait.” I grab her wrist. “Come back after. I might need your help.”

She arches her silver-studded eyebrow. “Now I’m intrigued. What have you been doing in here?” Holding up a hand, she adds, “If it’s gross, I don’t wanna know.”

“I was on the phone.”

“Mister Intense?” Sylvie purses her lips and makes a smooching sound.

I roll my eyes. “No, someone else.”

“You’re juggling three guys now?” She looks impressed.

Making a face at her, I say, “He used to be my sister’s boyfriend. He must be, like, thirty-six years old.”

“You have a sister?”

“Will you just go?” I give her a little shove. “I’ll explain later.”

While she’s gone, I call Ty and tell him about the conversation with Jake. He’s willing to take me to Oklahoma City, and he’s ready to go whenever I am—he already picked up the violin.

I tell Ty to be here in twenty minutes and to park on the street behind the activity center. Then I put my phone in my pocket. Sitting down on the toilet, I bury my face in my hands. “Mom . . . Wyatt . . . please don’t hate me,” I whisper.



A few minutes later, Sylvie returns after buying me some time with Wyatt. She turns on the air vent, then sits on the sink and smokes, apparently unafraid of getting caught. Giving me her full attention, she listens while I lean against the wall and explain that I need to sneak out and meet Ty, and that we’re leaving town for a few days, at least. She asks a million questions, but I tell her I’ll have to give her the full rundown after I return to Silver Lake. If I tell her now and think too much about what I’m about to do, I’m afraid I might back out, and I can’t do that.

“But how will you get back?” Sylvie asks, tapping ashes into the sink.

“I haven’t thought that far ahead. Ty might be able to bring me. If not, I have enough money for a bus ticket.” The acrid scent of the smoke gets to me. Coughing, I wave a hand in front of my face.

“Are you sure he’s safe?” She squints at me. “I’d be on a permanent guilt trip if he hacked you up and dumped the pieces into some lake.”

“Have you been talking to Wyatt?” I ask with a laugh. “You can relax. I trust Ty one hundred percent.”

Blowing a smoke ring toward the ceiling vent, Sylvie says, “Go have some fun, then. You haven’t had enough of it. What do you need me to do?”

“If you want to help, you’ll have to leave the party and stay gone for a while.” I bite my lip.

“Not a problem. This party’s lame, anyway. I’ve got better places to be.”

I grin at Sylvie and look into her kohl-smudged eyes. “We’ve got to hang out more after I come home.”

“Yeah, no shit. You’ve been missing out.” She bats her lashes at me. “I’m gonna hold you to that full report about all this.”

“I hope it’s not that my friendship with Wyatt came to a screeching halt, but I’m afraid it will be.”

“No way. He’s crazy about you. Whatever this is about, he’ll eventually come around. One thing I’ll say about the Goob—he has a big heart.”

“I know. And I don’t want to break it.”

She flicks her wrist and scowls. “Don’t worry. He’ll get over it. Believe me, there’ll be plenty of girls lining up to kiss him where it hurts and make him feel all better.” In a mock-whisper she says, “Don’t tell him I said so, but Wyatt’s looking sorta hot lately.”

“I’ve noticed.”

Laughing at my guilty expression, Sylvie flushes her cigarette down the toilet, then says, “So what’s the plan?”

A few minutes later we find Wyatt pacing by the snack bar. Sylvie hangs back while I cross to him. He looks relieved when he glances up and sees me, which only makes me feel worse for what I’m about to do.

“You okay now?” he asks, his voice full of concern and a little bit of suspicion—or maybe I’m only imagining that part.

“Not really. My stomach’s sort of queasy.” At least this is true. “I think I’d better go home.”

His worried expression doesn’t hide his disappointment. He gestures toward the front of the building. “Let’s go. I’ll take you.”

“That’s okay. Sylvie said she would. She’s leaving anyway, and I don’t want to ruin your night.”

“I can come back after I drop you off,” he says.

“No, they won’t let you back in, remember?”

As if sensing I need her help, Sylvie walks up. “Hey, Goob,” she says to Wyatt. “No need to interrupt your merrymaking. I’ve had enough of this lovely event and I’m headed toward Lily’s, anyway.”

Wyatt scowls. “You live in town.”

“Yeah,” says Sylvie, “but I hear there’s a kick-ass party out Lily’s way at Black Bear Pond. You might not have heard about it. Only the cool kids were invited.”

Ignoring her sarcasm, Wyatt turns back to me. “I’ll walk you to the door.”

Sylvie and I sign out at the front table while Wyatt tries to convince the Gestapo moms to let him walk us to the car, then return to the party, even though it’s against the Rules. He promises to be back in five minutes, and they give in.

Leaving the activity center, Wyatt and I follow Sylvie across the parking lot to a black Lexus.

“Whoa, look at you,” Wyatt says in a teasing voice, eyeing the shiny new vehicle. “So Sylvie has a traditional side. Who knew?”

She gives him the finger, then opens the driver’s-side door. “It’s my dad’s. My shitmobile is in the shop.” Before sliding behind the wheel, she blows Wyatt a kiss.

Laughing, he walks me around to the passenger door. “Call me when you’re home, okay?”

“Sure.” I hug him. When we step apart, Wyatt dips his head to kiss me, but the moment our lips touch, I pull back.

His face falls. “Is something wrong?”

Struggling to control my emotions, I say, “I just don’t want to give you my stomach bug.”

He smiles. “I’ll see you tomorrow. After I get some sleep, I’ll come by your house and we can look over all that stuff about your dad.”

I can’t say anything because my throat has closed up. Instead, I force the best smile I can muster and climb into the car next to Sylvie.

As she pulls into the street to take me around to the back of the building where Ty is waiting, I glance over my shoulder and see Wyatt standing in the parking lot, watching us. He lifts one hand in a wave. I press my lips together and wave back.