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Why had it been so easy to ask Viotto to lunch, but she struggled with grade-school flirting with Jason? She was attracted to Viotto, liked his personality and respected his vocation. Her body reacted when he flirted with her, but her mind didn’t go silent like it did when she was with Jason. Was that a sign?
And if so, a sign of what?
Don’t make promises you can’t keep. ;)
And there it was. Cassie’s entire brain shut down, and she didn’t know how to respond. There were a million different ways she could interpret that, and different parts of her body had their own ideas of what he meant.
Instead of responding, she opened up her texts with David. He hadn’t answered her last message.
How’s it going back home?
David wasn’t the best with technology—or remembering to check his phone—but he typically answered her by the end of the day. Something in her stomach twisted, but she tamped down the anxiety. Savannah kept him busy, and she wouldn’t bother him if it wasn’t absolutely necessary.
Still, the little boy’s case wasn’t unimportant. Part of her knew she was reaching out just to see if she could get a response, but the other part knew David was a resource she could tap into. She wouldn’t be doing Sebastian justice if she didn’t exploit all her options.
Hey, I’ve got a quick question. Found out the name of the little boy who’s been hanging around. Sebastian Thomas. Laura did some digging but didn’t turn up much. Was wondering if you’d have anything else on file? Hope everything’s okay.
Cassie hit send. The normally blue bubble turned up green with a note that it had been sent as an SMS text. Cassie’s first instinct was that something was wrong, but she chided herself. David could take care of himself. More than likely, he was out doing his job, away from any towers with a signal. Once he got back into range, he’d see her text and answer.
After tossing her phone to the side, Cassie hunkered down over her computer screen. So far, she only knew the basics: Someone had kidnapped Sarah Lennox when she was ten. The authorities had arrested Henry Fitzpatrick, and though he’d been a suspect in Sarah’s case, they’d only convicted him for kidnapping one kid and sentenced him to fifty years. Someone had also kidnapped Sebastian Thomas, but the police had been unable to solve his case. The only proof the two cases intersected was that Sebastian had said Sarah’s name.
That wouldn’t hold up in a court of law.
It was heartbreaking to find so many websites dedicated to missing children. She clicked on one named Never Forgotten, dedicated to children who had been missing for ten years or longer. They were gone, the website said, but never forgotten. And perhaps, with your help, we can find out what happened to these little angels.
Cassie took a deep breath before clicking on the first field box. She typed Savannah. In the next box, she wrote Georgia. She chose the year 1994 from the drop-down menu. That’s when Sebastian had gone missing. It was a good place to start. She clicked Search.
The website reloaded, and seven faces stared back at her. She read them in order. Angelica Reyes. Omar Wilton. Jessi Briar. Sebastian Thomas—
Cassie’s breath caught. She clicked on his name. It had his date of birth, the date he went missing, his age and a brief description of what he looked like. Then: Age today–35.
Cassie felt tears prick her eyes. Sebastian’s entire life changed twenty-six years ago. That’s when he became more than just a kid, he became a missing person’s case. A file sitting on someone’s desk in Savannah.
But Cassie knew it was worse than that. He’d spent the last twenty-six years existing in limbo, forever trapped as a nine-year-old boy, until one day, a few months ago, he found someone who could see him, who could help him. And she’d spent weeks on end ignoring the fact that he even existed.
Tears spilled down Cassie’s face, and she swiped them away with the back of her hand. She had a million excuses for why she hadn’t dropped everything to help him as soon as he’d shown up in the corner of her bedroom one fateful night—he wouldn’t speak to her; she was afraid; she needed a break; she was trying to deal with her own tragic life—but none of them were good enough. None mattered.
“I’m here now,” she whispered to the room. If he heard her, he didn’t acknowledge the promise implicit in her words. But it didn’t matter—nothing would assuage her guilt.
Cassie scrolled through the other names and clicked on each of their profiles. She read through all the missing posters. Other than the fact they’d all gone missing from Savannah in the same year, nothing stuck out as a common denominator. The ages ranged from six to fourteen. They were all different races. Their socioeconomic backgrounds were also widely different, though most of them had been from the poorer side of town.
She went back to the drop-down menu and chose the year 1995. The page reloaded. Sarah’s picture was at the top. She remembered the day it had been taken. It was at Sarah’s tenth birthday party. The most recent photograph they’d had of her at the time. At least the most recent photograph that didn’t have Sarah connected at the hip with Cassie.
Three other kids had gone missing that year. Tommy Whitmore. Chase Goode. Annabelle Dodge. According to the website, all four were still unsolved. Just like the ones from the year before. That made eleven cold cases over the span of two years in a single city. Eleven kids whose lives were taken before they’d even been able to live them.
Cassie found the drop-down menu again. There were countless reasons why people trafficked children across the globe, but she would never understand how anyone could do something like that to another human being, let alone a kid. If Sebastian’s case connected with Sarah’s, that implied there were more cases related to their disappearances. There had to be a beginning to the thread.
Cassie clicked on
the year 1993. She’d keep going back until something jumped out at her. And if nothing did, then she’d keep searching. If she couldn’t find a connection, then she’d ask for Laura’s help. And David’s. Viotto’s. Even Sebastian. He had more to say. She just had to be patient enough to listen.
But after an hour of trying to figure out if the same person took any of these kids, she’d come up with absolutely nothing. David hadn’t answered her, and Laura hadn’t come back in from the garage.
Cassie took to Google. She searched for other kids who had gone missing between 1990 and 1995. The police had solved some. Usually, it was someone close to the child—a mother or father or uncle or family friend. Some of them had died, their bodies found discarded in a field or at the bottom of a river. A few headlines spoke of the children who’d been victims of tragic accidents.
That’s when she spotted him.
Ethan Miller.
