I hold my breath and click on Harrison’s profile. It’s pretty bare-bones—it doesn’t feature a glossy timeline of his rise through Pacific Records, nor any other job history. The only offerings are education-based, showing that he graduated from NYU in an undisclosed year. Beneath it… Lake Blair High School.
Just like me, Amelia, Rory. Madison. He grew up in Blair, vanished to New York, and then reappeared here sometime later, sliding into power. A hum crosses my lips, unsure what any of it means.
I open a new tab and searchHarrison Klein Madison Tory. The first few links are irrelevant—Pacific Records press releases, business blogs, more LinkedIn links. Nothing connecting them beyond working in the same department. Not a single article discussing him in regard to Madison Tory’s disappearance.
“I’m not seeing anything,” I mutter, reaching for my cappuccino.
“I’ll look, too,” Rory says, settling into his chair and unlocking his smartphone.
I open another tab and searchMadison Tory missingto see how much her case is being discussed online.
The search results are shockingly thin. There’s no obituary—because there’s no body. No national news attention, just whispers in local papers. I select the top link: SEATTLEWOMANSTILLMISSINGONEYEARLATER.
The article is short and plainly states the facts that have been made public thus far.
A 28-year-old Seattle woman remains missing as loved ones continue their fight to find answers one year later.
Madison Tory disappeared around 6:00 p.m. on the evening of Tuesday, September 26, 2023, following a routine day at work. Tory was employed by Pacific Records in Capitol Hill, located three blocks from where she was last seen.
“It’s the nightmare that doesn’t end,” said Phoebe Tory, Madison’s sister. “It’s like she fell off the face of the earth.”
Surveillance cameras in Capitol Hill show 28-year-old Tory walking down the 1300 block of Hill Avenue. She appears casual, and according tofamily, was walking toward her apartment, where she lived alone, on Maple Drive. After Tory leaves the frame, she’s not spotted again. No eyewitness statements have been reported, and Seattle police claim the investigation remains open.
“We’re not ruling out the possibility that she’s a runaway,” Detective Liam Healy with the Seattle police said. “She hasn’t used her bank account or cell phone since before her disappearance, so we’re not ruling out foul play, either.” Healy considers Tory’s disappearance a missing person’s case. No suspects have been named to date.
Tory’s family are adamant that it’s uncharacteristic of her to go this length of time without contact.
“We spoke nearly every day on the phone,” Phoebe Tory continued. “She’d never leave us like that. She had no reason to. She loves us, and her nephew. We’re all very close.”
Seattle police said anyone with information about Tory’s disappearance should call the investigations unit at…
I click the video at the top of the page to view the surveillance footage for the first time and am smacked with the loudswoopof a news station’s opening. I slam the Mute button on my keyboard, Rory lowering his smartphone to watch beside me.
The grainy clip rolls: a low-res recording taken from a camera fixed on the opposite building. Madison walks down a crowded street in a long coat and chic slacks, her black purse tucked neatly under one arm. Her hair wisps in the wind as she drifts past storefronts, eyesdown, sometimes glancing casually ahead. No one appears to be with her or following her, and she doesn’t look concerned or alert. By all accounts, it’s her usual walk home.
I exchange a disappointed glance with Rory at the lack of a lead. Finally, we have a name—but it’s not getting us anywhere.
Clicking through the other links, I find nothing new—only recycled copies of the same sparse details, threaded with quotes of determination or dismay from Phoebe, their mother, Michelle, and their father, Phil.
“Check this out,” Rory says. “It’s the only conversation I’m finding surrounding her job.”
On his phone screen is a forum thread dissecting theories on her disappearance. The post he shows me is dated two months ago, written by someone called PaulaHikes88.
My husband worked with Madison at the label for a time and told me about the office gossip. One of the execs was apparently inappropriate with Madison. I don’t want to mention his name, since he still works there, but police need to dig deeper into the higher-ups in the company. I’m thinking he knew he could get in big trouble if she reported him, so he did something about it.
By the third read, my mouth is dry. I lick my lips and glance at Rory. Whoever Paula is, her words echo Michelle’s warning on Susan Ritter’s show—that Madison had been thinking of quitting.
“Do you think it could be Harrison?” I ask, my voice hushed.
It could be any executive. But Harrison isn’t just anyone. He’s tied to Blair, to the lake, just like Madison Tory.
26
AMELIA
The lunch bell startles me today, my weary body shuddering from its purring chime. The kids have a good laugh about it, which makes me smile. Until one student blows a raspberry and points at me. I bite my grin away.
Peering up at the wall clock, I’m shocked to see that it’s 11:10 a.m. I massage my right bicep, sore from all the packing, and shake my foggy head. Even with Wes interlocked with my body all night, Imogen and Rory safely across the hall, a police cruiser parked out front, I didn’t get quality sleep.
