He turned to his mother, whose eyes were now closed, drink still in hand. “And here’s the thing,” he said, “the only thing that stands out to me on this. There were fifteen kids at that party, all of them interviewed. And one of them was Cora Yates, the sister of Rose.”

That thought bounced around in his brain as it had been ever since he learned of that fact. Seventeen-year-old Cora Yates was interviewed in connection with the disappearance of Caleb Benner over two decades ago. Now, the younger sister, Rose, was a person of interest in the overdose death of Riley McKay. Rose wrote about a similar overdose murder in one of her novels.

Was there a connection, or just mere coincidence?

Then something clicked in Colin’s mind. Something that hadn’t clicked until this very moment.

Had Rose Yates, J. L. Sharp, ever written about a sixteen-year-old boy? One who went missing or was murdered?

Before he could mull over this question any longer, he heard the front door opening.

A voice called out, “Hello?”

Meg.

“In the dining room,” Colin called out. He expected his voice to jolt his mother, but her eyes remained closed. He reached over and grabbed the drink out of her hand, setting it on a coaster. She mumbled a soft and sleepy thank you.

Colin’s wife walked into the dining room, nearly knocking over a stack of boxes.

“Didn’t expect you to come over,” Colin said. He glanced at her seven-month-pregnant belly. “Everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine. I just felt like getting some air.”

Colin nodded at his mother. “Just about to get her to bed. You ready to go up, Mom?”

She sighed. “I suppose so.” She fluttered her eyes open and looked at Meg. “Well, hello.”

It was such a distant-sounding greeting, Colin thought. He wondered if, in this moment, she even knew who Meg was.

“Hi, Jackie.”

“Okay, Mom, let’s get you upstairs,” Colin said.

Jackie began to stir as Meg looked around, taking in the house and seeming to sense the true chaos of it for the first time.

“We need to get this place cleaned up,” Meg said.

Colin thought the comment a pebble in a canyon. “Ya think?”

“I mean it. Even just a little bit.” She turned her head to her mother-in-law. “Jackie, how about I help you organize your place. How does that sound?”

His mother walked past her and slowly ambled up the stairs, carefully stepping around the obstacles on each riser. She never answered Meg’s question.

Colin turned to Meg. “What’re you doing? You can’t help her clean up this place. You’re almost eight months pregnant.”

“Not me. I mean, I could help direct things, but maybe she’ll let me bring a cleaning crew in. You know, like those Got Junk? guys.”

“She tells me no every time I suggest it,” Colin said.

“Which is maybe why I should be the one making the suggestion. Maybe she’ll respond better to me.”

“I don’t know, Meg. I don’t think you should—”