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Chapters (67)
  1. Big Boned
  2. CONTENTS
  3. Dedication
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. 53
  57. 54
  58. 55
  59. One Month Later
  60. Acknowledgments
  61. About the Author
  62. Copyright
  63. About the Publisher
  64. Backad 1
  65. Backad 2
  66. Backad 3
  67. Backad 4

And then a huge smile swept across his face. That smile. That one that seemed to hold all kinds of mysterious magical powers that reduced me to dust. “That’s the coolest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Really?”

“It’s amazing. You’re famous. Everyone in Cape Town is talking about it, you were in the news. I should, like, get your autograph.”

“No one can know. I could get into serious trouble.”

And then he reached over and grabbed my hands. The move caught me so off guard and I flinched so hard that the coffee on the table spilled a little.

“You have to do something for Natasha. People need to know that she’s still missing.”

I smiled at him. “I’m going to,” I whispered.

“You are?”

“Yes. Later tonight. But you can’t say anything, promise me?”

“Never!” He squeezed my hands, and I stared down at them. I felt such a rush of something surging through me.

“I’ll help you,” he said. “I’ll keep watch and hand you your paints.”

“You don’t have to.” I shook my head.

“I want to. I . . . need to. I can’t explain it, but I know I need to help you.” I looked up at him. Looked straight into those massive blue eyes of his and felt myself melt.

“Your art has the power to change things, Lori,” he said. “I told you you were brave.”

I kept looking into his eyes. I couldn’t look away, and they seemed to pull a smile out of me that was mirrored on Jake’s face. I nodded at him. “Okay, you can help.”

Things I Like about Myself by Lori Palmer

I’m a good sister.

I’m a real artist (despite what Blackwell says!).

I, Lori Palmer, am officially good with parents!

I have a voice. There is power in my art.

I am brave!

38

We met up again at eleven that night, when the streets were quiet and all the coffee shops had closed. When I got back to the park from driving home and fetching my paints, Jake was already waiting for me.

“You ready to do this?” he asked.

I nodded.

I put my earbuds in and pressed Play. A Grimes song sprang to life in my ears: “My Name Is Dark.” Grungy, electric, industrial sounds burst into my ears and I thought this was the perfect song for this moment.