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Nicky watched her, waiting.
"I realized that the only way I could continue doing my job was if I made it personal," Amara said. "If I got involved with the people who disappeared. Agent Lyons," she said, her voice low. "I know it's hard to believe, but I do know what you went through."
Nicky held herself back from turning away. She didn't want to be rude, but the pressure on her was so hot, she felt like she was standing under the sun.
"I know it's hard to be strong," Amara said. "I know it's hard to keep yourself together."
Nicky stared at the floor. She didn't want to talk about this.
"You and I both know what it's like to not have what we wanted."
Nicky felt her lips part. "I'm so sorry about Masie," she said.
"I know," Amara said. "And I'm sorry about your sister."
Amara's eyes softened as she approached Nicky, and she put a warm hand on her shoulder. "I'm not trying to pressure you, Agent Lyons... but please keep these girls in mind. They deserve justice."
Nicky nodded, feeling extremely guilty. "I'll think about it, Senator.”
CHAPTER THREE
Late in the evening, Nicky sat in her apartment and sipped a stiff glass of whiskey, scrolling through information on her laptop. She'd told the senator she'd think about her offer more, and she would. And so, she was trying to find out everything she could on the missing girl, Meghan Salinger.
Meghan had been abducted a year ago, right after winning a singing competition. She'd been taken on her way to the studio to record a single.
The media said it was a kidnapping for ransom. But Nicky didn't buy it.
If it was for ransom, why wasn't there a demand?
And why was the girl's body never found?
Nicky read Meghan's news articles, her Wikipedia page, and her social media. She was twenty-four years old, a singer, and a rising star. Nicky clicked through to Meghan's social media account, where she saw a picture of Meghan and a friend named Anne as her last post. All of the comments on the page were wishing for Meghan's safe discovery.
Nicky took another sip of whiskey, feeling her stomach twist with the guilt.
She took out her phone and set it on the table.
The FBI had been working the case from the beginning. But they hadn't even gotten a call from the kidnappers. That was extremely strange in a situation like the one the media had been trying to paint.
Nicky clicked to her FBI database, and she saw that there was little information on the case. Although Senator Gregory had said there was "intelligence," it clearly hadn't been put in the database yet. Nicky couldn't deny her gnaw of curiosity. What type of intelligence was this, and where did it come from?
How did they know if Meghan Salinger was really still alive?
Taking another drink, she felt her head grow hot. Nicky lay back on the couch and pressed her head deep into a decorative pillow, staring up at the stucco ceiling.
Being an FBI agent was in her blood. It had been her calling for years, but sometimes, she felt like it was too much. Nicky was in this to save people, not see them die. Her rational mind knew that losses, deaths, unfortunately came with the territory. But she just didn't want to hunt down another missing girl with the hope she was still alive, only to find her dead in the most brutal way.
It was a lot to bear. Nicky shut her eyes, hoping the darkness would help block out the images of Masie's body.
Before she realized it, she was drifting away. And soon...
Nicky's eyes popped open.
She found herself back at the lake house. But this time, things were different.
Nicky was younger. This was her sixteen-year-old self, wearing a striped tee and jeans. And she was alone with Rosie.
A storm brewed in the distance.
