But she didn’t.
At lunch, I sat alone, the world moving around me like I was underwater. Distant laughter. Forks scraping plates. Someone talking about homework. It all sounded far away. Then Will dropped down beside me, brow furrowed.
“Why are you sitting alone? Where’s Licia?”
Aran dropped into the seat next to Will. “Did you two break up or something?”
“I... I don’t know,” I said.
“You don’t know if you broke up? I think you’d know.” Aran pushed the joke, grinning, but no one was laughing. Will nudged him with an elbow.
Then Nora’s voice cut in from the table across from mine.
“People are saying she and her mom just disappeared. Packed up and left in the middle of the night.”
“She’s probably just sick.” I said. But I didn’t even believe my own lie.
Selma strolled up, smirking.
“Sick? Sure. That’s why her father was in the street this morning, screaming like a lunatic.”
I stilled. Of course. Selma and Licia lived near each other. That’s how she knew so much. She must have seen the aftermath.
“I heard her mom had bruises,” Nora said. “Everyone knew something was off.”
”That’s why Licia never wanted to go home.” Selma added.
I couldn’t hear it. I wouldn’t hear it. Licia wasn’t sick. She wasn’t home. She wasgone. My face burned. My fingers curled around the fork in my hand, like it could anchor me. I wanted to scream, to shut Selma up.
Will stood, like he’d heard my thoughts.
“Shut up, Selma.” he snapped. “You don’t know anything.”
That night, I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. I couldn’t stop seeing her face. Couldn’t stopwaitingto hear her voice again. But all I heard was silence. I wanted to go looking. She had come for me when I needed her, that’s what friends did for each other. But I didn’t have visions like she did, and I didn’t even know where to start.
Then came a knock. Loud. Sharp.
Another. Louder.
My heart jumped to my throat.
I heard my father rush down the stairs, then the front door slam open. Then voices. Frantic. Angry. Pounding footsteps thudded up toward me.
My door flew open.
Licia’s father stood in the doorway. Red-faced. Wild-eyed.
“Where is she?” he barked. “Where are you hiding her?!”
Hiding?
He didn’t wait. He tore through my room, ripping open drawers, yanking clothes from the wardrobe, almost flipping the bed looking under it.
My father charged in. “Stop this madness!” he shouted, grabbing his arm.
But Licia’s father shoved him aside. “She’s here! Iknowshe is!”
He pinned my father to the wall with his arm across his throat, choking the air from his lungs.
