Mom sighed and stood up, then bent down so her face was close to the camera. “I love you, Tess. Try to relax, okay?”

Has anyone ever relaxed when they were told to relax?

“Sure, okay,” I said. “I love you, too.”

Frankie rarely told my mom, or anyone, that she loved them. Maybe that was why I felt like I always needed to say it back, even when I didn’t really feel like saying it myself.

Mom blew a kiss at the phone and went over to the fridge to get eggs. Frankie picked up the phone and walked back to the bedroom we used to share as kids, before we each took a room inside the inn when we got too old to share.

It’d been my idea.

I’d needed some space.

“There was a tornado near Hot Springs, Wyoming, yesterday,” Frankie said before flopping down on her childhood bed.

“I don’t know where that is,” I said, biting my pinkie fingernail.

“Hold on.” The video paused and the screen got blurry; then she came back. “It’s three hours and forty minutes from you driving, not that tornadoes stay on roads.” Frankie paused and added, “It was just a small one, and no one was hurt.”

“Ah.” I didn’t know what to say about that. “How’s Kai?”

Frankie and Kai had been friends since elementary school. He was a sweet guy who liked to skateboard and who’d crushed on Frankie practically since they met. I think she only realized it a few months ago, right around when Colette went missing.

My sister shrugged, holding the phone straight out in front of her and pushing her face back into the pillow to make herself have a double chin, then touching the rolls with her fingers. “Kai’s Kai.”

“Is he your boyfriend now?” I asked carefully.

Frankie looked at the camera instead of herself for a second and made her chin normal again. “Kai’s my friend,” she said, a sparkle in her eye that told me he was probably more than a friend, but she wasn’t going to talk about it. “Do you like that guy? The one who has a name like a girl?”

I hadn’t told Frankie about Izzy; mostly we’d just texted about internet quizzes and this new game she was obsessed with and trying to get me to play.

“How do you know about him?” I asked.

Frankie smiled slyly. “Kennedy.”

“You talked to Kennedy?” I asked, surprised.

“Sure.” Frankie wasn’t one for detail.

“Like, do you text? Or video chat? And how often?”

Frankie made a face. “You sound like Mom.” She rolled over in bed and said, “We’ve texted since last year. She said you told everyone at dinner about people you’d met at camp and it was so obvious you liked the boy with the girl’s name.”