I was in the abyss of another strange dream—this one of Chloe’s car in the ProScoop parking lot with her backpack still in it, while a large lizard that looked a bit like an iguana climbed inside it to steal Chloe’s wallet—when I awoke to my dad opening my bedroom door.
“Aubrey? Are you decent? I tried knocking, but—”
I was decent. I’d dressed in my favorite long-sleeved, fuzzy-pantsed winter pajamas in an attempt at comfort before stumbling into bed, even though it wasn’t cold outside. It was cool enough in the house, and for some reason, being fully clothed in comfy fabrics was soothing when I was anxious.
I sat up, still tangled in the blankets I’d been kicking around in my sleep. “No, it’s fine. I didn’t hear you. Come in.” I blinked at the window. “Is it already morning?”
My dad poked his head in. “Not quite. I didn’t want to wake you, but I also didn’t want to leave without telling you. Mary’s sister arrived to keep her company, so I’m going to pick up your mom so Mary and her sister can have some family time.”
I rubbed my eyes to clear the sleepy blur and extricated myself from the mess of blankets. “Can I come with you?” If we weren’t heading over to spend time with Mary today, I at least wanted to make sure she was okay. Chloe would want that.
Dad searched my face, then nodded. “Sure. I’ll wait downstairs. Let me know when you’re ready.” He slipped out and shut the door.
I threw on some fresh clothes, washed my face in my bathroom, and threw my messy hair back into a ponytail. By the time I made it downstairs, Dad had a to-go mug of hot chocolate waiting for me, fresh from the Keurig.
I gave him a grateful smile. “Thanks.”
We made the short drive to Chloe’s house. The moment her driveway came into sight, I felt a pang of loss. Chloe wasn’t there. Might not ever be there again.
Stop it, Aubrey. She’ll be okay.
It was better to ignore the part of myself which didn’t believe that.
We pulled into the driveway, and to my surprise, Chloe’s mom hurried out and came right to my passenger window.
“Have you heard anything from Chloe? Has anyone at school heard from her?” Her eyes were full of worry—with a touch of hope.
My heart twisted in my chest as I rolled down my window. This was a rare occasion when I wished I was more socially connected… but if anyone had information on Chloe, they weren’t sharing it with me. No one from school had even reached out. “No, Ms. Cartwright. I’m sorry.”
The hope fled from her eyes. She pressed her lips flat together and nodded, then hurried back inside.
So much for making sure Chloe’s mom was okay.
Dad glanced at me. “You alright?”
I drew a long breath. “Yeah.”
A moment later, Mom came out, and I moved to the backseat to let her have the front.
Mom slipped into the car, and Dad backed out of the Cartwrights’ driveway without wasting any time.
Mom turned to look at me. “There’s some news—a bit, at least.”
I tensed.
Dad shot a glance at her. “Good news?”
Mom sighed. “More like just updates.” She gave me a weary smile. “The police have been checking Chloe’s social media posts, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary… until today.”
I stared at her. “She posted something?” I didn’t use social media a ton, but Chloe was one of the few people I followed on several platforms. If she’d posted something, I should’ve gotten a notification.
My mom shook her head. “No. She was tagged in something.” She pulled out her phone and handed it back to me. It was a screenshot of a photo posted on Instagram, some attractive teenaged guy wearing swim trunks, standing in the sand with the ocean behind him like he was about to go surfing. Right next to him stood a smiling, teenaged girl in a black swimsuit cover-up dress who… looked exactly like Chloe.
The profile wasn’t a personal one—it was some news account covering local beaches, and they’d posted the photo with a tag to Chloe’s account and the caption Fun in the sun with a string of emojis.
It was an utterly unoriginal caption, but I had bigger things to focus on. The girl in the photo didn’t just look like Chloe, she was wearing Chloe’s favorite sandals, the white ones with a gold flower on the straps.
I hadn’t gotten a notification that she was tagged, but that wasn’t the weirdest part. I had never seen the guy in the photo before in my life.
When I looked up, Mom was watching me. “Do you know who that is? Who she’s with?”
“No. I’ve never seen him before.”
“Neither had Mary,” Mom said softly.
She reached for the phone, and I handed it back to her.
“The police tried to reach out to the account that tagged her, but it seems to be a dummy account. The email address and all other attached info were dead ends so far.” Mom slid her phone back into her purse, then looked at me. “I know this is hard to take, Aubrey, but… it really is looking like Chloe ran away.”
My pulse sped. “No. She wouldn’t do that. You said it was a dummy account, right? They must have faked it to throw the police off or something. That’s not her… or if it is, it’s got to be an old picture. ” It didn’t look like an old picture—it looked like Chloe looked now—but an old picture or a fake both made a lot more sense than thinking Chloe had run off with a secret boyfriend right after inviting me to join her for a study session at the ProScoop.
Mom shared a glance with Dad, then turned back toward me. “The police would like to come speak with you in about an hour, if you’re up for it.”
I glanced at the car clock. 4:30 a.m. “Yeah, sure,” I said, but inside, my stomach was in knots.
****
The police didn’t ask very good questions. It was basically all the things I had to answer no to: Have you heard from her? Did she share her plans with you? Do you have any knowledge of where she may have gone, or why? Do you recognize the guy in this photo? Do you know of any reason Chloe may have wanted to run away?
My emphatic, “No, because she wouldn’t have,” didn’t seem to carry much weight.
I could tell they were already writing Chloe off. Another runaway—poor friends and family, completely blindsided. Hopefully she’ll come to her senses and come home.
It was infuriating. The time-window to find Chloe while she still might be okay was slipping away like sand through a sieve… if it wasn’t gone already.
My frustration and anxiety were mounting with each wasted moment. If the police didn’t get some real information to help find Chloe soon, I was taking to the streets as a vigilante detective, whether my parents okayed it or not.
Soon after the police left, my cell phone rang.
I answered it, ready to bite off someone’s head if they said anything to push me.
“Aubrey?”
It took me a second to place his voice. “Collin?” He had never called me before. I didn’t even know he had my number.
“I got your number from Lockley.”
Oh.
“Sorry to call so early,” he continued, “but Lockley’s got an off-campus cheerleading leadership training or something today, so she’s already been picked up by the squad captain and I’m driving myself. I figured you might not be planning to go to school today, which is totally understandable, or that maybe your parents are driving you, but I wanted to make sure you didn’t need a ride.”
The cheerleading squad. I suddenly remembered the rumor Chloe had mentioned—the one about those three new cheerleaders having been some kind of amateur sleuths in their previous town. “Is the whole squad going to this special training thing?”
Collin sounded confused when he answered. “No… just the captain and co-captain from each school, I think. Why?”
None of the new, transferred-in cheerleaders were captains or co-captains. They wouldn’t be going. That meant they should be at school.
I drew a breath. “One second.”
I muted my phone and walked into the kitchen to find my parents. “Collin offered to drive me to school.”
Mom and Dad both stared at me.
“Are you sure you’re up to going?” Mom asked.
“Yeah. I can’t just sit here all day.” I’d barely slept, my insides were spinning like a washing machine on the speed cycle, and my brain felt like a plate of cold spaghetti, but I needed to move. Besides, it wasn’t like I needed my brain to be in peak condition, right then. I wasn’t planning to do chemistry or calculus. I had more important work to do—work that I could hopefully accomplish on the wings of the determination-fueled energy burst I was currently riding, and maybe a cup of coffee.
Mom and Dad shared a long glance, then Mom sighed. “Okay, sweetheart. But if you decide you want to come home, just call us. Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you?”
I walked over and hugged her. “No. You both barely slept. Just get some rest. I’ll call you if I need you to pick me up early.”
Dad wrapped his arms around us both, then kissed the top of my head. “Go ahead and get ready, then. I’ll make you a fried-egg sandwich to go.”
***
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