Oliver had never gotten her name, just as he had never told her his. The texts continued on for weeks, sharing details about school, books, movies, favorite foods, favorite music…just like they had been father and daughter in another life on another plane. It would have been sweet had it not been so creepy.

“You think this is healthy?”

“I’m not saying it’s normal, but it’s clearly helping this poor girl. And me too. I don’t know how else to explain it, Felicity.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were communicating with Vera’s phone all this time? And why didn’t you tell the cops? They need to see these texts. She found Vera’s phone—which means Vera was wherever this girl found it. That’s helpful information for tracing her movements.”

“First of all, she only found the phone three months ago. And if I ask her who she is and where she lives, it might freak her out. I don’t want to spook her. She’s a young girl.”

How was Oliver so dense? “I don’t give a crap about that girl. If it’s a clue to finding Vera, we need to follow up on it!”

“You realize she found the phone months after Vera disappeared, right? Vera was probably long gone by then. And besides, the cops were already tracking the phone for the first three months and saw no activity, no location, nothing. I’m telling you, pinning down this girl isn’t going to lead us to Vera.”

He could be right, but he could also be wrong. Vera’s phone usage had been a dead end back when she first left. No unfamiliar calls, no unusual texts. The police spent weeks tracing her cell phone, following up on all her past text and call history, but no leads came of it. Then no phone activity for three months. Which led them to believe it had been wiped and tossed, and that’s when they stopped putting manpower hours into following up on it.

In fact, Vera didn’t call or text her secret boyfriend or best friend. According to the police, she could have been communicating with them via a number of instant message apps, but without knowing all of her social profiles, there was no way to know. Her phone was the key, because her whole life was on it. Every app she used, her search history, everything. Unless this mystery girl knew how to completely wipe a phone, there could be something on there.

“I still don’t understand how chatting with a strange man pretending to be her dead father helps.”

Oliver shook his head. “You of all people should know that everyone grieves differently.”