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By ten,I was sitting at the table. The knot on my head still hurt, but otherwise, I felt like I’d pulled a drunken bender that ended in a massive hangover. Grams was taking a nap and May was keeping a watch on me.
“You can go home, really.” I stared at my latte that May had grudgingly made me. She’d wanted to make me tea but I wasn’t interested.
“Your great-grandmother would have my hide. She needs her sleep.” May stared out of the kitchen window. “I wish they’d call.”
“I’d call Daisy, but I don’t want to chance interrupting anything important. But maybe a text…” Texts could interrupt matters, too, but at least they were less intrusive. I pulled out my phone and texted both Daisy and Bran.
is everything okay? we’ve been waiting to hear from you for hours.
I waited, but there was no answer. “Do you have Find Friend on your phone, for Bran?”
“No, unfortunately I don’t. That’s going to change.” As she opened her phone, the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it—and yes, I’m quite capable of opening the door.” I headed to the door, followed by Fancypants. He hovered around me, more concerned than my Grams.
I opened the door and saw Arnie. His face was ashen and he looked shaken. “Have you heard from Bran or Daisy?” he asked.
My heart sank. “I texted them, but no—I don’t think so. Let me look to make certain they didn’t text me while I was in the hospital.” Although I knew they hadn’t, a part of me really wanted to be wrong. I looked but no texts had come through from Bree since before Faron and I’d been attacked. And at three AM, Bran had left one text that he was out with Daisy, still.
I showed Arnie. “What do you think has happened to them?” I asked as I invited him in.
“We’re not sure. We arrived at Evan’s house at about two-thirty. There was no one there, but we had probable cause to search his place. We found a room filled with pictures of Bree, so we know he’s the stalker, but we couldn’t find any sign of her.”
“Where does he live? Tell me, because you know I can find out.”
Arnie gave me Evan’s address. “I don’t know what to do. We’re going to call in the FBI if we haven’t found them by this evening.” He paused. “How are you doing?”
“Sore. One hell of a headache.” I told him about Faron. “I’m so worried.”
“That’s scary,” Arnie said. He paused, then asked, “Are you and Faron…”
“An item? Kind of. We’re headed that way,” I said. “What should I tell May about?—”
“About what?” May joined us. She looked from Arnie’s face to mine. “You haven’t heard from them?”
He shook his head. “The sheriff sent me back to the station after Evan’s house was a bust.”
But something rang off about what he was saying—not that he was lying, but there was something that had gotten overlooked. Something they hadn’t seen. My instincts were yelling at me now.
“Did you examine his house thoroughly?”
“Yes, we did. We found nothing. His car wasn’t there, either, and we have an APB out on him. We also have an APB out on Sheriff Parker’s car.” Arnie stood up. “Well, if you hear from either of them, let us know.”
I saw him out, then returned to the sofa, where I curled up beneath a throw and focused on Bree, Daisy, and Bran.Boom,images of a dark space, slightly damp but warm, flashed into my mind. I focused on the walls, trying to see what they were like, and reached out my hand. Anotherboom, and I felt damp wood beneath my fingers. I could smell the tang of soil, that pungent smell of damp earth. Petrichor.
“Elphyra, are you okay?” May’s voice penetrated the fog.
“Yeah, but I’m getting something. Can you lead me as I describe what I’m seeing?” I still wasn’t focused enough to guide myself.
May settled in next to me and took my right hand. I held out my left hand and closed my eyes again. “I’m in a dark space—with wooden walls to the left and right. There’s a feeling of dampness in the air, I can smell soil, like freshly turned. It smells like it’s been raining.”
“Do you see anything else around? Is there any illumination?” May’s voice was calm and collected and she made me feel safe.
I looked around. There was a faint glow from behind me, and I turned, trying to discern where it was coming from. There—at the end of the passage I was in, the light was coming from there. I followed it, my footsteps making a ghostly sound.
“My steps—it sounds like I’m walking on concrete. I’m at the end of the tunnel. To my right, I see a room—there’s a door and the light is coming from behind the door.”
