She's Not There

“I’m just down the hall,” Caroline said anyway.

“I’ll be fine,” Lili said. “Thanks for everything. I really appreciate it.”

“Sleep well,” Caroline said.

“We’ll see you in the morning,” Michelle told her before shutting the bedroom door. She proceeded briskly past her mother down the hall to Caroline’s room.

“Where are you going?” Caroline asked, trailing after her daughter into her room.

“I’m sleeping with you tonight.”

“What? No.”

“What? Yes.” Michelle unfurled the nightgown she had tucked away under her arm. “Don’t argue with me.”

“But why?”

“Why?” Michelle repeated. “For the same reason I’m sleeping with this.” She pulled a large knife out from underneath the mattress.

Caroline gasped. “What are you doing with that? Where did you get it?”

“From the kitchen. Where do you think? I put it here earlier.”

“Well, put it back.”

“No chance. It’s staying right there.” She returned it to its previous position.

“That’s just absurd. Don’t you think you’re being a little overdramatic?”

“Better dramatic than dead.”

“You can’t actually think Lili intends to harm us?”

“I don’t know what to think and neither do you. She seems sweet enough, I’ll grant you that, but you never know. We have no idea who she really is. What if she robs us blind and takes off in the middle of the night?”

“Then I guess you’d be right about her.”

Michelle shook her head. “Has it ever occurred to you that I’d rather be wrong? That a big part of me hopes she really is Samantha? That I’d give anything to have my sister back?”

Caroline took a deep breath. The truth was that it hadn’t occurred to her. She’d been so caught up in her own feelings that she hadn’t even considered what Michelle might be going through. “I’m sorry,” she said softly.

“Apology accepted,” Michelle said, pulling back the covers. “Now can we please get some sleep?”





When they woke up the next morning at just past seven A.M., Lili was gone.

“Well, at least we’re alive,” Michelle said, standing behind her mother in the doorway to the spare room. “Guess we should check the silverware.”

“Lili?” Caroline called, trying to stem the too familiar panic that was rising in her gut. “Lili? Where are you?” She raced down the stairs and into each of the first-floor rooms. “Lili?”

“Relax,” Michelle told her as she clomped down the steps after her, Lili’s overnight bag in her hand. “I doubt she’d go anywhere without this.”

“Lili?” Caroline called again, running back into the kitchen, her eyes searching the backyard. “Where the hell is she? Where could she have gone?”

“Maybe I should check this thing for explosives.” Michelle began riffling through the bag. “Here’s her passport.” She opened it to its picture page. “Yep, that’s her, all right. Lili Hollister. Born August 12, 1998. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure Samantha was born in October.”

The doorbell rang.

Caroline froze. She pictured a policeman standing outside her front door. I’m sorry to have to inform you, but there’s been an accident…

“The prodigal daughter returns yet again,” Michelle said, pushing past her mother into the hall and opening the door.

“Sorry,” Lili said sheepishly. She was wearing the same jeans she’d had on the day before and a T-shirt emblazoned with a picture of Kate Moss. “I just wanted to feel the warm air. I didn’t realize the door would lock automatically.”

“How long have you been standing out there?” Caroline asked, ushering Lili into the foyer and glancing up and down the street before closing the door.

“Not long. I woke up really early, about five. Couldn’t get back to sleep. So I got dressed and came downstairs, waited for the sun to come out, then stepped outside and got locked out. I didn’t want to wake you up so early, so I went for a walk.”

“A walk? Where?”

“Just around. This is a really beautiful neighborhood.”

“Did you see anyone?”

“A couple of joggers.”

“Lovely,” Michelle said. “Any of them happen to have cameras?”

“I don’t understand. Did I do something wrong?”

“Of course not,” Caroline said. “It’s just that sometimes we’ve caught reporters hanging around…”

“They hang out in the street…behind bushes…inside grocery stores,” Michelle said pointedly.

“Not to mention the neighbors,” Caroline said, cutting her off. “They don’t mean to be nosy, but…”

“It’s probably better if you don’t take any more early-morning walks,” Michelle advised.

“It would be quite the media circus if this were to get out,” Caroline said.

“I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

“You’re sure about that?” Michelle asked.

“Michelle, please.”

“I already told you I’m not interested in publicity. Is that my overnight bag?”

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