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
We’re coming up on two weeks since the accident, two weeks since Chloe disappeared. I’ve tried not to let my mind go there, tried not to imagine where she might be or what might be happening to her. But I’ve seen enough TV shows to know if a missing person isn’t found within the first forty-eight hours, it becomes more of a long shot that the person will be found alive.
Is Chloe locked up somewhere?
Is she suffering?
Is she dead?
I push away the thoughts with as much mental force as I can summon. I remember the girl in Utah who was gone for almost a year before they found her. Alive. There are other cases like that, too. In America and in Europe. All over the world.
But the young women in those cases—and it’s almost always young women—suffered horribly while they were gone.
I can’t think of that happening to Chloe.
Dad should forget about me—he needs to worry about Olivia and Gabby. We should never let them out of our sight. The world is not a safe place.
The cornfields turn into trees so thick I can’t see through them. I make a right onto County Road 250 that runs from Bentley to the next little town of Flatwater. There’s nothing there, maybe five hundred people, and nothing but trees and corn in between.
It’s not unusual for Chloe and me to come out this way. We used to take long drives out in the middle of nowhere all the time, just exploring. Being out here on homecoming night supports the idea that we might have been fighting. When we went on those drives, we always talked and talked about whatever was happening in our lives. If we had something serious to discuss, we might have done it on County Road 250 heading toward Flatwater.
I slow, reduce my speed to 35 miles per hour in a zone where everyone is allowed to go 45. If I slow down and take my time, will the memories start to come back? Will being here shake something loose?
But as I try to force my mind back to that night, nothing comes.
The present explodes with the vibrant colors of fall. Orange and red leaves litter the road and are piling up along the berm. Three deer at the tree line hear me approaching and jump back into the brush. I crest a small rise and come down the other side into a dip in the road. That’s when I see first the skid marks and then the tree.
And something else.
A car. Parked along the side of the road.
A car I don’t recognize.
Thirty-Six
It’s a dark sedan—new, so maybe a cop came to collect evidence. Could be a reporter working on yet another story. Could be one of those technicians reconstructing the accident in order to figure out what happened.