“Police have widened the search today, covering every inch of the extensive wooded area you see behind me. But not a single sign has been found. We’re here with Rowan’s family, Gloria and Theodore Janes. And his sister, Maisy.” The camera view widened, and my mouth fell open. Gloria, and Telly beside her, holding her hand. Maisy was pressed into Telly’s side. Even Chicken was there, asleep in a grassy patch behind them.

“That’s about me, Carl,” I said, pointing. “They’re talking about me. On television!”

“Can you tell us what happened?” the woman asked.

“We— All we know is he was exploring the woods,” said Gloria. “That’s something he loves to do.” She pushed a tissue into her face, looked over at Telly. He wrapped his arm around her. “And the police say he crossed paths with a man in there. He’s that way, Rowan is. Always treats people with respect. Would talk to anyone.”

I was holding my breath. A low hum came from behind me, but I barely noticed it.

“He’s a most wonderful boy,” Gloria said. My face got warm. “He’s a great big brother to Maisy.”

Maisy tucked her chin in. I laughed. She was being just like a turtle.

“He’s quiet and gentle,” Telly said.

They said other nice things, too. I pushed my hand into my chest. Then the woman asked them what they’d like to say to me if they could. Telly said, “We love you, Row. We’re doing everything we can, and you just got to hold tight. We’re going to find you.” Gloria started crying and then she said, “Rowan? If you’re listening, all we want is to have you home. Back with us, with your mom and dad, and your sister. You belong with your family. We’re right here, together, waiting for you.”

Carl’s chair scraped on the floor. Springs groaning.

The lady thanked Gloria, and then the screen flicked over to the man at the desk. He said, “Rowan Janes was last reported seen at the old stone bridge that crosses Slowrun Creek. A resident of Little Sliding, Karen Grace, told police she was taking an evening stroll with her friend, Lionel Horton. The pair happened upon Rowan Janes and an adult male in that vicinity.”

The screen flicked again, and then I saw the same lady with the microphone, and a front porch I didn’t recognize. The camera moved out and there was a girl standing on the bottom step. An older woman was beside her. Maybe her mother.

The girl looked familiar, and then I knew her. She was the one wearing the floppy hat, with that sick freak who forced me and Carl from our camp. She looked younger than I remembered, cleaner, and I felt a jolt of shame that I hadn’t fought back. I touched my throat.