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
“Oh, yes, that’s right. I do recall that incident. A dreadful poem. So trite. Describing a beautiful girl as a queen on her throne? Blech. It’s poems like those that make me feel my entire life has been a waste. Like I’m not teaching anybody anything.” Ron’s head shakes back and forth.
“Did you see him? Basher?”
“Basher? No, I didn’t.”
Ron holds out his hand, and we shake. We’ve never done that before. It seems so formal, so adult.
“Keep up with your schoolwork as much as you can, Hunter,” he says. “I know I have a college letter to write for you. Make sure you remind me of that.”
“I will.” Then I think of something else. “Do you know why Chloe isn’t having you write her a letter? She was, but then she changed her mind. I thought maybe she was embarrassed by the Basher stuff. She thought I pushed her into mentioning that creepy poem to you.”
“Did she?” He looks thoughtful. “I didn’t know I wasn’t writing her a letter. That’s news to me.”
“She didn’t tell you?”
“Well, perhaps she forgot. And maybe she wanted someone from the sciences to write for her. That’s what she’s going to major in, after all. I would have written a glowing letter, but it’s her choice.”
When he opens the door, a stronger gust of air blows in. Ron walks right across the spot where he said he saw Chloe and I argue the night she disappeared. Moments before everything changed.
Thirty-Five
Before I exit the parking lot, the phone rings.
It’s Dad.
I don’t want to answer, but…
“Where are you?” he asks. “I came home, and you weren’t here.”
“I’m out.”
“Out where?”
“I went to talk to Mr. Hartman.”
“You went to school?”
“Not exactly. We talked in the parking lot. Now I’m going for a drive.”
“Hunter, are you okay? Maybe you should come home. We can…talk…or whatever.”
“I’m okay,” I say. “As okay as I can be. I’ll be home soon, but I don’t want to drive and talk.”
“Be careful.”
“I will.”
I pull out of the school lot, heading east. I don’t mean to take anything out on Dad. He cares. And now I know I fought with Chloe the night she disappeared, and I argued with Daniel the night he died.
Doubt creeps in like it never has before.
The houses around school quickly give way to a stretch of cornfields. They’ve already been harvested, the stalks cut down to the ground like dead soldiers. It starts to rain harder, and I turn on the wipers, which smear the windshield even more.
My destination is a place that’s been calling ever since I came home from the hospital.