Ken didn't reply, but Nicky knew how she was behaving. She knew that nothing could ever guarantee a missing person being found alive. She knew that most missing persons were never found at all.

But she couldn't deal with another Masie. And so, she blocked out the idea that it was even possible. Meghan was alive, and Nicky would find her.

As she drove, she tried to calm the steady thud of her heart, but she found herself going back to the place she always went back to. The place where her worst memories existed, but also the place that somehow brought her the most comfort. In this place, Rosie was alive, and they were togetherno matter the circumstances.

The lake house. Rosie. The man.

It all took over, until Nicky couldn't stop herself from becoming immersed in the memory, even with the lights of the highway ahead of her windshield.

***

"We need to get out of here," Rosie said.

Nicky shivered, sitting on the floor of the cold, empty cabin.

"He could be out there still," Nicky had said.

She was the older one. She was the one who should have been in charge. But she was scared. Scared that the wrong move could cause them to lose their lives.

They'd been in the cabin for three days now with nothing to eat but a few stale crackers, and a bucket for a toilet. He came and went, only to check in on them, ask how they were doing, and smile. He always smiled.

They'd tried the door many times, but it was too well-locked. There was no other exit.

They were trapped. He'd boarded up every window, every nook and cranny that they could possibly try to break free from. Plus, without being able to see outside, they couldn't tell when he was there and when he wasn't. Sometimes they'd hear his tires crunch over the gravel, signaling that he'd left, but he'd always come back soon. Always.

This was one of those nights. They'd heard his tires leave a half an hour ago, and as always, had tried to figure a way out. But they couldn't. He'd never been gone for more than thirty minutes before.

Nicky's mind raced as she looked around the dark and empty cabin. They'd tried removing nails from one of the windows so they could get to the other side, but it was hard for their small fingers to do without tools. But three days of slowly picking at them was starting to work, and if they were going to do it, maybe now was the best time.

"We need to try again," Rosie said.