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Back She's Gone Save as PDF
Chapters (95)
  1. Front Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright
  4. Contents
  5. Video #1
  6. One
  7. Two
  8. Three
  9. Four
  10. Five
  11. Six
  12. Seven
  13. Eight
  14. Nine
  15. Ten
  16. Eleven
  17. Twelve
  18. Thirteen
  19. Fourteen
  20. Fifteen
  21. Sixteen
  22. Seventeen
  23. Eighteen
  24. Nineteen
  25. Twenty
  26. Twenty-One
  27. Twenty-Two
  28. Twenty-Three
  29. Twenty-Four
  30. Twenty-Five
  31. Twenty-Six
  32. Video #2
  33. Twenty-Seven
  34. Twenty-Eight
  35. Twenty-Nine
  36. Thirty
  37. Thirty-One
  38. Thirty-Two
  39. Thirty-Three
  40. Thirty-Four
  41. Thirty-Five
  42. Thirty-Six
  43. Thirty-Seven
  44. Thirty-Eight
  45. Thirty-Nine
  46. Forty
  47. Forty-One
  48. Forty-Two
  49. Forty-Three
  50. Forty-Four
  51. Forty-Five
  52. Forty-Six
  53. Forty-Seven
  54. Forty-Eight
  55. Forty-Nine
  56. Fifty
  57. Fifty-One
  58. Fifty-Two
  59. Fifty-Three
  60. Fifty-Four
  61. Fifty-Five
  62. Fifty-Six
  63. Fifty-Seven
  64. Fifty-Eight
  65. Fifty-Nine
  66. Sixty
  67. Sixty-One
  68. Sixty-Two
  69. Sixty-Three
  70. Sixty-Four
  71. Sixty-Five
  72. Video #3
  73. Sixty-Six
  74. Sixty-Seven
  75. Sixty-Eight
  76. Sixty-Nine
  77. Seventy
  78. Seventy-One
  79. Seventy-Two
  80. Seventy-Three
  81. Seventy-Four
  82. Seventy-Five
  83. Seventy-Six
  84. Seventy-Seven
  85. Seventy-Eight
  86. Seventy-Nine
  87. Eighty
  88. Eighty-One
  89. Eighty-Two
  90. Eighty-Three
  91. The Final Video
  92. Acknowledgments
  93. About the Author
  95. Back Cover

I start across the room but freeze in my tracks. I remember the hole in the closet wall—

I go back and look around the closet. I clearly see Chloe’s shoes. Clothes on hangars, the sweaters neatly folded on the shelf above.

And down on the lower right-hand side there’s a hole in the plaster. Like Laura said—smashed with a boot. I go right over, and the opening is just large enough for me to put my fist in. I half-expect to grab a dead mouse or a wire that will shock me into unconsciousness. It doesn’t seem big enough to hold a journal.

But the space opens up, and it’s larger than it looks. My hand scrambles through dust and grit, and then I feel something leather and smooth. I grip it and pull back, but the only way to get it through the opening is to roll it over like a tube. When it’s out, I don’t even bother to look but just dash back across the room.

I face the challenge of the window.

I put the journal in my armpit and slide my fingers under the window again. With the light on it’s easier for me to see and get my fingers into the space right away. I push up and the window slides open, squeaking as it did before.

But I have to go. I have to get out.

I throw the journal out the window and follow it, landing on my feet in the grass, my knees buckling with the impact. I reach back and up and pull down the window, hoping Laura isn’t in the room.

Then I turn, grab the journal, and run like hell across the yard in the direction of the car.

Fifty-Five

I dash toward the car, my legs pumping and pumping.

But no one is there. There’s no sign of Olivia or Gabriela.

I flop into the driver’s seat and sit for a moment, unable to move. My breathing is heavy, and sweat runs down my forehead and into my eyes.

Did I leave some trace of myself behind? Did I shut the window? Is the closet door open? Did I drop my wallet or phone…

My wallet is there. The keys got me in to the car, so I know I have those. The bulk of my phone fills my other pocket. I closed the closet and the window, put the lamp and table back in place.

“Okay,” I say out loud. “It’s okay.”

I’m clutching the journal in my left hand. I angle it to catch the light from the nearby streetlamps. It’s a Moleskine, the cover dark brown. I don’t open it. I hate the thought of looking at her most private thoughts, even if it might shed light on what happened to her. Will she be pissed when she finds out?