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Tears prick in my eyes as her sweet face pops into my mind's eye. After a few swallows, I come into motion.

Let's do this.

42

SAMANTHA

My fingers glideover the keys of the Bösendorfer with a mind and body that has never felt so deprived of any comfort as it does now. I’ve been playing for over an hour, with a hollow soul.

From the moment Dad and Alisha disappeared, Amanda and Bella have been staying with me at my house while Nick, Emma, and Brian come by every day, as the cops search. Carmen and Jeremy came by the house the next morning after the police informed them of what happened. My grandmother was hesitant at first, but when she saw me crying, she took me into her arms and comforted me as a real grandmother does. Together with Alisha's parents, they stayed the whole day waiting with us and watching Nick, who has contacts in the local television world, getting on a Boston news show and showing them a picture of Alisha and Cole. He asked people to contact the police if they have seen them, but it's been five days and there's still no trace. It's like they vanished.

As I continue to play the piano, I ask myself, Why does every person I love die or disappear? Is there something wrong with me? Am I jinxed to lose people I care about?

I close my eyes, and like every night when I stand outside at the baluster; I pray and hope for a miracle, but with every day that passes, it gets harder to keep the faith.

A soft knock, followed by Bella’s voice, makes me open my eyes and stop playing.

"Sam, can you come with me? Police Officer Garson is here, and he needs to speak to you. It’s important."

I rise from the bench and follow her into the kitchen, where the older police officer I talked to two days ago is waiting. I sit in a chair next to Amanda and across from the man and ask, "Are they dead?"

"Sam!" Amanda yelps, horrified.

"What? It’s not a weird question."

"Samantha, we have a lead on who the stalker is."

The officer slides a piece of paper across the table, and a shiver runs through me as I take in the sketch. The man’s got dark brown, almost charcoal hair and grey eyes that even on paper give me the creeps.

"Who is that?"

"This is what we believe the stalker looks like. We received this from a reliable source telling us that this man sent your father and Alisha the videos of you walking in the street. He’s now our prime suspect. Do you recognize him?"

I shake my head. "No, he doesn’t look familiar. Can I ask you a question?"

"You can, but please, call me Garreth."

I clear my throat and fold my hands on the table as Bella takes a seat. "Garreth, do you think they’re still alive?"

"I wish I had an answer, Samantha. But keep the faith, young lady, because this," he says, holding up the drawing, "is a big lead. I—"

His phone interrupts. "Officer Garson." As someone talks on the other side of the line, he hums a few times, nodding. "Okay, great. I’ll update the family. I’ll be back at the station in half an hour."

As he puts his phone away, he points to the picture of the man. "Someone at your grandmother’s house identified him."

"Does my grandmother know who that man is?"

Garreth shakes his head. "No, but the housekeeper does."

"What, Jeremy?"

Amanda points to the drawing. "Who is he?"

"His name is David Turner. And it seems he’s Jeremy’s son!"

43

ALISHA

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