I spun in my seat to stare at them both as they argued, Luke shaking his head and Bres getting right up into his face, arms waving in the air.

“Do you want me to go back and get your boyfriend?” The cabbie asked.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I said, just as Luke turned to meet my gaze, his baby blues trying once more to snare my gaze. Heat flooded through me as if his lips were caressing mine, my body reacting to the memory as surely as if it was happening right at that moment. I swallowed hard and sat back in my seat. I steeled myself against Luke and the effect his kiss had on me. My focus had to be Ashling.

When the cab stopped in front of the hotel I tapped the driver on the shoulder. “I have to run up and get some money, I’ll be right back.” He gave me a smile as I stepped out of the cab.

I could see Chesterman beach. I grit my teeth, swallowing the grief that threatened to overwhelm me. As crazy as this all seemed, I knew it was happening. I wasn’t making it up. and that meant that I had a chance to save Ashling. But I had to find her first.

The manager let me into my room, since my key card had gone missing somewhere between the beach and hospital. He handed me a new card and put a hand on my shoulder as he opened the door. “I’m so sorry about your sister. She was a beautiful girl.” His brown eyes were full of sorrow and compassion; they nearly undid my resolve.

“Thank you,” I said. I slipped in the room and closed the door with a soft click.

I gulped down a sob, and covered my face with my hands. My phone vibrated in my back pocket and I pulled it out. It was a text message from my cousin in Ireland, Sheila.

Quinn. I don’t know if you heard yet, but your mother is missing. Did she contact you?

I quickly texted back. No. Ashling is missing too.

There was no response to that, not right away. Then the phone rang and I pushed the talk button, the tears spilling out of me.

Sheila was crying, I was crying, and somewhere in the middle of the tears she gulped out that she was on her way, booking a flight as we spoke.

“No,” I said, sobering up, wiping away the tears. “Stay there—my mom, someone has to look for her. I’ll go after Ashling.” Of course I didn’t explain that everyone else thought my baby sister was dead. Nor did I acknowledge the deep fear that was rooted within me: that I was alone, that they were both gone from beyond my reach. Even though Mom had ignored us, she was still our mother, and I loved her, in spite of how we’d been raised.