Page 89 of Magic Hour


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“Sure?”

“Semi-sure.” She pulled free. “Thanks for driving me home. See you back at the station at eight sharp. The DNA will find a match. I feel it in my blood.”

“That might be tequila.”

“Naysayer. ’Night.” She lurched toward the stairs, grabbing the handrail just as she started to fall.

Cal was beside her in an instant.

“Hey.” She frowned, feeling his hold on her forearm. “I thought you left.”

“I’m right here.”

She looked at him. With her on the stair and him on the floor, they were eye-to-eye and so close she could see where he’d nicked himself shaving that morning. She noticed the jagged scar along his jawline. He’d gotten that the summer he turned twelve. His dad had come after him with a broken beer bottle. It was Ellie’s dad who’d gotten him to the hospital.

“How come you’re so good to me, Cal? I was crappy to you in high school.” It was true. Once she’d sprouted boobs, plucked her eyebrows, and outgrown her acne, everything had changed. Boys had noticed her, even the football players. She’d left Cal behind in the blink of an eye, and yet he’d never made her feel bad about it.

“Old habits die hard, I guess.”

She backed up one step. It was just enough to put some distance between them. “How come you never drink with us?”

“I drink.”

“I know. I said with us.”

“Someone has to drive you home.”

“But it’s always you. Doesn’t Lisa care that we keep you out all night?”

He was looking at her closely. “I told you: she’s gone this weekend.”

“She’s always gone.”

He didn’t answer. After a minute she’d forgotten what they were talking about.

And suddenly she was thinking about the girl again, and failure. “I won’t find her family, will I?”

“You’ve always found a way to get what you want, El. That was never your problem.”

“Oh? What is my problem, then?”

“You always wanted the wrong things.”

“Gee, thanks.”

He seemed disappointed by that. Like he’d wanted her to say something else. She couldn’t imagine how she’d let him down, but somehow she had. If she were sober, she’d probably know the answer.

“You’re welcome. You want me to pick you up tomorrow morning?”

“No need. I’ll get Jules or Peanut to give me a ride.”

“Okay. See you.”

“See you.”

She watched him walk away, close the front door behind him.

The house fell silent again. With a sigh, she navigated the narrow, too-steep stairway and emerged onto the second floor. She meant to turn left, to her parents’—now her—bedroom, but her mind was on autopilot and steered her right into her old room. It wasn’t until she saw that both twin beds were full that she realized she’d made a wrong turn.

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