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“Thanks, Allie,” he says as I pass him this morning’s mug of coffee.
“Naomi made coffee cake, too, so help yourself.”
I gesture at the baking dish on my kitchen table and Chief Porter’s face lights up.
“Don’t mind if I do,” he says, cutting a piece. “I’ve had Naomi Zimmerman’s coffee cake before, and it’s fantastic. My wife buys it every year at the church bazaar.”
Naomi and Erik are sitting in the other two chairs at my kitchen table, and she smiles at him in thanks.
“I wish I had some more substantial news for you today,” Chief Porter says to me, an apology underlying his words.
“I wasn’t really expecting you to since you said you’d call if there was any update.”
He nods. “I will, Allie, day or night.”
I look down at the yellow legal pad on my kitchen table as the chief chews a bite of coffee cake. It’s covered in scrawled notes from the past thirteen days. Every potential sighting, every potential vehicle, every potential lead.
At first, I didn’t realize how many reported sightings would turn out to be false. I’d feel a surge of hope when Vi and Jenna were “spotted” in states all the way from Virginia to Arizona. It would take every bit of my restraint not to jump in the car and drive to their supposed location.
Usually, though, sightings are just well-meaning people who see someone resembling the descriptions of Vi and Jenna that are circulating nationwide.
“Chief, there was a potential sighting last night in Albuquerque that the PI’s are tracking down,” Erik says.
I link my fingers through his beneath the table and squeeze. A couple days into this nightmare, Erik hired a team of private investigators from Chicago to supplement the police force working on the investigation. Once we knew it was Jenna who took Vi, because the police discovered Jenna had ditched her car at a friend’s house and borrowed a different one to disguise her whereabouts, the police became less frantic about finding Vi.
They’re still taking the situation seriously, but they are confident that Jenna and Vi will turn up.
I hope they’re right, but I’m not underestimating the lengths my sister would go to in order to punish me. I know it was our conversation in the bar that night—our last interaction—that caused her to run with Vi.
If they showed up on my doorstep right now, I couldn’t stop myself from physically harming Jenna. The agony she’s put me through with this stunt is like nothing I’ve ever felt—she thinks she’s playing a game while this situation is mentally and physically draining everything I am.
I rarely sleep, and when I do, I have nightmares. I’ve lost ten pounds because the anxiety I feel every day has ruined my appetite. I eat a few bites of an apple or some cheese when I feel Hazel watching me during mealtimes. I know it makes her feel better.
She’s almost as despondent as I am. She feels guilty for not telling me when Vi left the pool that day, even though it’s not her responsibility. No matter how many times I tell her it wouldn’t have changed anything, she keeps beating herself up over it.
Erik hasn’t left my house since the day Vi disappeared. He hired another at-home health nurse to help his Aunt Jo at her house, even though she is doing well with the occupational therapy. Now that his mom’s ankle is almost healed, she can also help out with Aunt Jo but Erik feels better having two nurses instead of one. Every night, I fall apart in his arms, no longer needing to pretend to be an adult who is calm and in control. Every day, I look to him for reassurance and he never lets me down. I’m not sure how I’d get through this without him.
His mom comes by the house first thing every morning, always bearing food. She posts flyers of Vi’s picture around Greentree Falls every afternoon. Her cast has been replaced with a removable boot brace, but she’s still subject to crutches.
When Chief Porter is done updating us, he leaves and Erik and I find Naomi trying to wash out the coffee cups at the sink while balancing on one crutch.
“Mom, I’ll do that,” Erik says, approaching her.
“I can wash up a few dishes, son.” She looks at him over the rim of her glasses.
He reaches for the mug in her hand. “I’ve got it, okay?”
She releases the mug and balances herself on her crutches, coming over to me.
“My prayer group is having a special meeting this morning to pray for Vi’s safe return,” she says. “You stay strong.”
“Thank you so much Naomi. We’ll take every bit of prayer we can get.”
“Vi’s picture is all over Facebook,” Erik says. “Since my teammates shared it on their social media pages, we’ve gotten millions of views. They won’t be able to go anywhere without someone recognizing her.”
