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
Dad does this thing where at the most he gives only half-hugs. He uses one arm and puts it around you and then pats you on the back. It bothers Olivia that he can’t bring himself to give her a full hug. It’s not something I’ve had to deal with very often, because Dad’s maybe hugged me twice in my life—at least that I can remember. Once in the hospital when Mom died. The other when I was nine and cut my knee on the school playground and bled all over the place. Dad had to pick me up because Mom was at a conference, and I was so afraid of getting stitches that he gave me a hug in the waiting room. The hug stunned me so much, I stopped crying and went with the nurse without looking back. They probably could have put the stitches in without anesthetic.
Dad gives Olivia a half-hug now, but she doesn’t seem to mind. She leans against him, and Gabriela goes to stand by her. They hold hands while the superintendent goes on about how wonderful Chloe is, but it sounds pretty fake because he doesn’t know her, and he clearly just asked people what to say about her. When he’s finished, he glances toward Chloe’s parents and raises his eyebrows. The silent question: Do you want to speak? Apparently, yes, because he goes on to introduce Chloe’s parents and waves them up to the microphone.
The whole thing is pretty awkward. More awkward than one of Dad’s half-hugs.
For one, when someone is introduced at a big event, people usually clap. But the whole crowd seems weirded out about clapping for the parents of a missing girl. So everyone gets even quieter than they already have been.
Chloe’s parents step forward, holding hands, each looking scared and shell-shocked. They blink into the TV lights like actors who don’t know their lines.
Basher and the guys he usually hangs out with stand thirty feet away. They’re not all football players, but they’re big guys who always talk loud, joke loud, and drive loud. They’re laughing about something, nudging each other. They don’t see me watching them.
On the stage, Chloe’s dad, Scott, nods to the crowd as he steps up to the mic, which screeches from feedback again when he touches it. He pulls back his hand and offers a little smile, but it looks strange and forced. Inside my chest, it feels like my heart is folded in half. They’re both devoted to Chloe and not just because she’s their only child. And if I thought it was the worst thing ever to lose my mom when I was fifteen, I really can’t imagine what it’s like for them to not know where their daughter is.