Chapters (95)
- Front Cover
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Contents
- Video #1
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Video #2
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Sixty-Two
- Sixty-Three
- Sixty-Four
- Sixty-Five
- Video #3
- Sixty-Six
- Sixty-Seven
- Sixty-Eight
- Sixty-Nine
- Seventy
- Seventy-One
- Seventy-Two
- Seventy-Three
- Seventy-Four
- Seventy-Five
- Seventy-Six
- Seventy-Seven
- Seventy-Eight
- Seventy-Nine
- Eighty
- Eighty-One
- Eighty-Two
- Eighty-Three
- The Final Video
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Back Cover
“So I’m hoping someone out there knows what happened. To Chloe, I mean. Everyone is worried. Her parents. Her friends. Her teachers. Me. If you know, just call the police. Or message me. Or tell a teacher or somebody. Because she’s somewhere, right? And she might be hurt. She might not remember anything just like I don’t. And she’s probably scared or confused or cold or completely out of her mind.”
The next part makes me nervous. I’ve thought about leaving it out. It’s really personal. Everyone thinks people my age just spill everything all over social media, but I’m not like that.
But it feels right. It does.
“And, Chloe, if you’re seeing this…well, I don’t know what happened that night. I don’t remember. I really don’t. But I remember that I love you.” I pause. I don’t even try to swallow because I can’t. “And I want to know where you are and that you’re safe. I just want to know that more than anything. Even if you don’t want to see me or date me, I need to know you’re safe.”
I take a deep breath. The red light blinks back at me.
I should probably smile. My whole life, people have told me to smile more. Smile when I have my picture taken, and smile when I meet a stranger. But I don’t like smiling that way because it feels weird and fake.
My skin feels itchy, my limbs stiff. I don’t want to smile, but I want to look concerned.
Worried. Or whatever I’m supposed to be.
But I don’t know how to do that, either, so I end my spiel.
“Just let me know, okay?”
I push the red button to stop recording.
One
The alarm rings, but I’m already awake.
I slept maybe an hour, and my eyes burn like they’ve been scoured with bleach.
I groan, a noise full of desperation, and pick up my phone to silence the screeching alarm. The concussion effects make it sound ten times louder.
My screensaver taunts me. A photo of Chloe and me taken on a day we spent at the lake during the summer. We’re both smiling, and a burst of sunlight pops over her right shoulder. Like she’s glowing. Her eyes are bright blue.
During the brief time I slept, her face filled my dreams. She was alive and by my side. I reached out to touch her, to take her hand. Contact with her skin always sent an electric jolt through my body, and every cell in me jangled with energy when we were close.
But then I woke up and landed in reality with a cold splash. I groan again. No words, sounds, or thoughts are enough to sum up everything that has gone wrong. Chloe is missing.