That brought a tiny smile to my lips. “Liar. Just tell me.”
He sighed. “The address you gave me, for Claire and Jude’s parents? I cross-referenced it with what Charles—the investigator—found and I went there to talk to them. To see if anything seemed . . . off.”
I’d been holding my breath. “And?”
“There was a car in the driveway, so I knew someone was home. I knocked, there was no answer, and then I rang the bell. A man opened the door and I asked if he was William Lowe. He said, “Who?” I repeated myself, and he said his name was Asaf Ammar, which, obviously, is not at all the same.”
“Well, we know the Lowes moved after—after what happened, right?”
“Right. So I asked if he knew where William and Deborah Lowe lived and he said he’d never heard of them. Which I told him was strange, because as of four months ago, they were living in that house.” Noah swallowed. “He laughed and said that was impossible. Unamused, I asked him why that would be.” Noah paused. “Mara, he said they bought the house from his wife’s mother, Ortal. Eighteen years ago.”
I backed up onto my bed. My throat was tight. Sealed so I couldn’t speak.
“It’s a mistake, obviously,” Noah said quickly. “It’s the wrong address.”
“Hold on,” I said to him as I carried the phone to my closet. Pulled down my boxes from Rhode Island. Pulled out a notebook from my old history class at my old school.
Rachel had passed me a note one day, telling me to meet her at Claire’s after school. I handed her my notebook as the teacher droned on, and she scrawled an address inside.
1281 Live Oak Court
“What was the address you went to?” I asked him.
“One two eight one Live Oak Court,” Noah said.
The address wasn’t wrong. Something else was.
50
I TOLD NOAH EXACTLY THAT.
“Your parents went to the funerals, yes?” he asked. “See if your mother knows anything.”
I tried so, so hard not to lose it.
“People don’t disappear,” he said.
“What about Jude?”
Noah went quiet. Then said, “I don’t know, Mara. I wish—I wish I did. But John is across the street right now. Nothing is going to happen to you or Daniel or Joseph or anyone, all right?” His voice was strong. “I promise.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. “Anna died,” I said after a too-long silence.
“I know.”
“It wasn’t me,” I said.
“I know. Hang on, Mara.”
“My parents think I’m getting better,” I went on. “They said I don’t have to go to the retreat to be evaluated for the residential program.”
“Good,” he said, sounding calm again. “They’re impressed with you. You’re doing well.”
“Except for the fact that it’s a complete lie. I’m not getting better. I thought maybe I was but I’m not.”
“You are not insane.” He barely concealed his anger. “All right? Something is happening to you. To us. I—I saw someone today,” he said quietly. “Some asshole grabbed a girl, twisted her wrist. I thought he was going to break it. He nearly did.”
“Who was she?”
“Don’t know. Never saw her before in my life,” Noah said. “But she’s all right. I wouldn’t have said anything except—you aren’t alone in this, Mara. You aren’t alone. Remember that.”
It was hard to breathe. “Okay.”
“I’ll be back soon. Hang on, Mara.”
“Okay,” I said, and we hung up.
I stared at the phone for five, ten seconds, then forced myself to do something else. I filled a cup of water from my bathroom sink. Drank half. Sat on my bed until Joseph burst in.
“You coming?” he asked breathlessly.
I took a deep breath and carefully composed myself. “Where?”
“Dinner.”
I rubbed my eyes and looked at the clock. “Yeah,” I said, much more brightly than I felt. I stood up and started to leave.
Joseph stared at my feet. “Um, shoes?”
“Why?”
“We’re going out.”
I just wanted to go to sleep and wake up with Noah back in Miami, back in my arms. But my parents thought I was getting better, and I needed to make them believe it. Otherwise I’d be sent away for problems I didn’t have. I was taking their drugs, drawing their pictures, passing their tests and it would all be for nothing if I was sent away now. I couldn’t bear that. Not when it would separate me from the one person who believed me. The one person who knew the truth.
I set the cup down. I put on my shoes and a big, fake smile. I laughed on the outside while I screamed on the inside. My body was in the restaurant but my mind was in hell.
And then we went back home. Daniel and Joseph were talking, my parents were joking, and I felt a little better, until I entered my room. I drank some more water from the cup I filled before we went out to eat and got ready for bed, trying not to be afraid. Fear is just a feeling, and feelings aren’t real.
But the disc I found under my pillow that night was.