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Theo wanted to say no. He wanted to go home and sleep; this had started because no one had known where Shaniyah was, and no one had seemed to care. Now they had found her, and they had found another missing boy on top of that, and he wanted, for one moment, with a feeling like claws tightening in his gut, to be done. To go back to his normal life, his safe life, where he could minimize risks, control things, protect his family.
But the vision rose of Shaniyah in their living room, laughing. Of Shaniyah showing him the video Auggie had helped her edit. Of Shaniyah talking about the future, laying out multiplying possibilities as she combined colleges and majors and career paths, like watching a kid play with train tracks.
He nodded. “Let’s go talk to Mrs. Vasquez.”
24
As soon as Auggie started the car, Theo fell asleep. It was kind of adorable, really; he and Lana slept the same way, heads hanging forward, bouncing a little as the car rocked over uneven pavement. The inside of the car was sweltering, and Auggie turned the Focus’s air conditioning all the way up. Outside, heat waves shimmered above the asphalt, making it look like the spinning sign of Riverside Burgers was floating. The river was the only thing that looked cool, like someone had drawn it with a slate marker, the currents hard-edged with white where the sun caught them.
Keelan’s house was a big, expensive-looking brick home on a street with other big, expensive-looking homes, and Auggie’s first thought, on seeing the three garage doors facing the street, was of a slot machine. The street was empty except for the Focus. No one driving. No one working in the yards. Maybe this was the kind of place where everyone paid someone to do the yardwork; that was kind of the vibe, anyway. Auggie tried to remember what day it was, tried to figure out if everyone was at work. Thursday? Friday? God, was it possible it was only Wednesday? It felt like it had been months since they’d started looking for Shaniyah. Years.
When they rolled over the lip of the driveway, Theo sat up, his lips making a dry sound as he craned his head.
“We’re here,” Auggie said.
Theo made another noise that suggested his brain was still booting up. Then he said, “God, sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry; you’re tired.”
“You’ve got to be exhausted too.”
“I’m young.”
It took a beat, but then Theo rubbed his eyes and said, “Here we go.”
“And virile.”
“Now might be a good time for you to explain if this is a compare/contrast exercise.”
“And I did six Red Bulls and a Five-Hour Energy before my bros and I hit the club.”
“What is happening? Am I still asleep? Is this a nightmare?”
Auggie grinned, and to his relief, Theo smiled too. Only barely, but it was there. Then his smile flattened out and he said, “Do you want to explain your intimate knowledge of prison shankings, by the way?”
It took a moment for Auggie to realize he was talking about what Auggie had said in their interview with Dalton. “Oh. Fer watched a lot ofOz.”
“That was—how old were you?”
“Eight. Nine. I don’t know. It’s not like I understood it, you know. I went back and rewatched it when I was fifteen or sixteen because I knew he loved it.”
“Oh my God,” Theo said and scrubbed his face.
“Did another piece of the puzzle just fall into place?”
“I’m not going to answer that,” Theo said and got out of the car.
When Theo rang the bell, a chime sounded deep inside the house. Not your standard ding-dong—this one was a melodious chime that went on for almost five seconds.
“Do you think people want to ring it again as soon as they hear it,” Auggie asked, “just because they know how annoying it must be?”
“Your teenage hooligan is showing.”
Auggie fought down the grin as the door opened.
Baylee Vasquez had that dark olive skin that suggested both genes and a tan, and her makeup and hair suggested a great deal of time and undivided attention. On their first—brief—meeting, Auggie had gotten the impression of someone with a PTA mom’s boundless energy, but now, as the honey-colored eyes flitted toward him and then back to Theo, he wondered if that wasn’t a mask for someone else. Girls learned that, he thought. Even more than boys, they learned how to wear masks early in life.
“May I help you?”
