Emily wandered into the kitchen. Aria watched as she opened the fridge and peered inside. It was empty, completely cleaned out. She searched cabinets and drawers, but they were all empty, too. She tried the tap, but no water came out. Spencer opened a linen closet. “Nothing,” she called.
Aria tiptoed down the dark hall and poked her head into each of the bedrooms. In every one, she found a neatly made twin bed and little else. She checked under the beds, but there was nothing hiding there. There were no clothes left behind in the closets, either. She poked her head into the bathroom. There was no shower curtain, and the tub smelled of bleach. And yet, it seemed like a presence lingered there. Maybe the last person who’d stayed in the house. Or maybe a ghost.
Aria stared at a small closet at the back of the bathroom she hadn’t noticed at first. Something creaked—maybe from inside. All at once, goose bumps rose on her skin. Was someone in that closet? Ali?
Her hand shook as she reached out for the knob. Her stomach swirled as she slowly turned it. There was a groan as the door opened, and Aria shielded her face with her hand, ready for an onslaught.
Silence. She opened her eyes. The closet was totally empty, the shelves wiped clean.
Sighing, she returned to the living room. Spencer and Hanna were waiting, looking equally freaked out. Then, Emily called out from the door near the garage. “Come here.”
Everyone rushed over. Emily stuck her head into the small, empty garage. “Do you smell that?” she said excitedly.
Aria’s nose twitched. She looked at the others. “Is that . . . vanilla?” It was Ali’s calling card: cloying vanilla soap.
Emily’s eyes were wide. “We should call the police. This is proof she’s still alive.”
Spencer peered back into the empty house. “Em, that’s not enough to get the police here.” She sighed. “Besides, she’s not here now.”
Emily stared at them. “Still. This is a lead.”
“It’s a trick,” Spencer corrected her. “And it’s happened before. Ali gave us a hint that she was at the pool house, but then she wiped the place clean of her prints. That’s what’s happening here, too.”
Emily turned to Aria. “But maybe she just left. We could ask people on this street. People at the Wawa. Someone probably saw her. Aria, what do you think?”
Aria looked down. “Em, I think Spencer’s right.”
Emily smacked the doorjamb. “So we’re going to do nothing?”
Spencer placed her hand on Emily’s shoulder. “Em. Calm down.”
Emily twisted away, letting out a pained keening sound. “I can’t just walk away from this! I’ve got to get her out of my head! She’s killing me!”
Everyone exchanged nervous glances. Aria’s heart began to pound. Did Emily think that Ali was trapped inside her or something? “Em.” She grabbed her shoulders. “Em, please. You’re scaring us.”
She wrapped her arms around Emily until her friend stopped flailing. When Emily turned to face them again, her face was red and she was still breathing hard, but she didn’t seem as unglued. “This is the end, isn’t it?” she asked in a quiet, stony tone.
Aria nodded sadly. “I think so.”
Emily leaned against Aria heavily. Hanna joined the group, squeezing Emily’s shoulders. Spencer piled on last, her body heaving with sobs.
“I know it’s hard,” Aria murmured. “We all wanted to find her.”
“But it’s going to be okay,” Hanna said bravely. “Whatever happens, we’ll have each other.”
Emily looked at them and tried to smile, but then her face crumpled again.
They hugged for what seemed like ages. When they pulled apart, everyone wiped their eyes. Aria felt empty. It sucked that she wouldn’t return to Noel triumphant and that they’d start the trial without proof Ali was out there. Their future was so bleak. They had little to look forward to.
They filed out the door and started down the sidewalk. In the distance, waves crashed and kids laughed. Someone was playing a radio loudly, and Aria could smell a barbecue. It seemed cruel, really, to witness such happy sights, sounds, and smells right then. And when an ice-cream truck tinkled around the corner, it was almost too much to bear. A teenage boy stuck his head out the window. “Want some?” he asked.
Hanna nudged Emily. “Get a Popsicle. It’ll cheer you up.”
“We’ll all get something.” Spencer’s voice was forcedly cheerful. “In fact, we should stay here the rest of the day, guys. Eat ice cream. Hang out, get a great dinner, leave early tomorrow before the storm comes in. We could check into that motel where we asked for directions. What do you think?”
Aria thought for a moment, then nodded. A day at the beach was like their equivalent of a death-row prisoner’s last meal, but they were already there. They might as well.
“Okay,” Emily said. And everyone seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief.