But as she took her usual spot at his side, she couldn’t shake a nagging feeling that something wasn’t quite right.

5
Wednesday, June 16, 10:40 a.m.
Two Days Later

Thanks to summer traffic, even on a Wednesday morning, Lindsay was nearly three hours into a 107-mile drive when the GPS began to guide her through a network of back roads. In a stop-and-go line of vehicles stretching from Southampton through Sag Harbor, she watched the sunlight glisten blue on Noyack Bay and tried to still her thoughts. What had begun as lingering anxiety about Hope’s new life had evolved into full-blown panic after four days. Until Hope moved to East Hampton, they had never gone more than a day without talking. It had now been a week, even after Lindsay broke her vow to give her friend space and began calling and texting frantically.

Her cell phone announced that she was approaching her destination. As Lindsay came to a stop, she pictured Hope arriving at this exact spot a month earlier. She had given a quick beep-beep with her car horn and then gestured out the window for Lindsay to pull the moving van into the driveway. Hope nearly tripped as she tumbled from the driver’s seat, beaming as she spun in circles on the lawn.

When she finally stopped spinning, her almond-shaped green eyes squinted against the sun. “It’s cute, right?”

The cottage was tiny and the siding weathered, but the front door was painted bright orange, and white-and-purple hydrangea blossomed across the yard. Lindsay assured her that it was adorable.

“This is my very first time having a whole house all to myself.” That she knew of, of course. That was always an unspoken truth with Hope.

Lindsay had hugged her friend and told her she’d never seen her so happy. “It’s like rainbows are bouncing off you right now. That’s how happy you look.”

Hope had opened her mouth as if to say something, but then stopped and shook her head. “Just excited is all,” she had said. “I think I might actually have my life back soon.”

Lindsay had been replaying that moment in her mind over and over again for days. What life, Hope? What life did you have before I found you?

She banged on the front door and peered through the windows. Through a part in the bedroom curtains, she could see that the bed was made. Nothing seemed out of place. But no Hope, and no Honda Civic in the driveway or on the street. She’d need to track down the landlady’s contact information to see about getting a key, but she had an appointment in a few minutes that she fully intended to miss.