“I thought she went missing when she was fif—”

A week to the day before Crissy’s sixteenth birthday. That’s when Felicia said Brett left.

“Mom was going to throw her a Sweet Sixteen party,” Doug told me, “but she had to cancel because Crissy was still recovering.”

“Holy shit.” I pressed the heels of my palms into my eyes. “Does that mean she went missing the same weekend Brett did?”

“Yeah,” Doug said. “I think it does.”

It was like I’d suddenly discovered an unfamiliar mole on the back of my own hand. How did I miss it? It defied explanation. So much of what Doug was saying felt like moments in a story I’d been told, rather than memories pulled from my own life. Why had Bram talked so much about our past? What was it that he wanted me to see?

“Did you ever ask Crissy what happened to her?” I said. Doug had spent a lot more time with Crissy than I did. They’d even had some friends in common.

“Tried to. She didn’t remember much. The blood tests showed meth in her system. Honestly, that was the most shocking thing about her disappearance for me. I didn’t think she went in for hard drugs. Anyway,” he said, “apparently she got in a big fight with Felicia and ran off, and somehow ended up unconscious in the woods with a nasty gash on her head and a mild concussion.”

I didn’t like the picture that put in my mind, or the visions of other women lying limp in the woods that flickered flipbook-style behind my eyes. “You don’t think some guy—”

“No evidence of that.”

“Where exactly was she found? I remember hearing about a creek.”

“Charcoal Creek,” said Doug.

“How far is that from the fishing access?”

“Fuck.”

“How far, Doug?”

He’d dropped his head into his hands. When he looked back up, his eyes were ringed in red. “I don’t know exactly where Crissy was found. Hook Road and that creek are close, though. A mile apart. Maybe less.”

Father and daughter, both missing the same weekend, both in the area of the wildlife refuge, and only one found alive. What did it mean?

I pictured Crissy crying in her small house on the bay, still as furious with Felicia as she’d been two decades before. I saw the bruise Felicia left on Abe when she channeled her rage over Brett into that blow. I didn’t know what to make of it all, but one thing was for sure. If Mom didn’t like me casting doubt on Felicia, she sure as hell wasn’t going to like this.

TWENTY-TWO

I declined to join my family for lunch. My mind was reeling, and I was racked with guilt over my suspicions about Felicia. I didn’t think I could be in the same room as my mother without upsetting her again, so while my brother ate a late meal of grilled cheese and homemade tomato soup with Mom and Dad, I sent myself to my room.