The call with the police doesn’t last long. They aren’t interested in my dad as a supposed missing person. It’s like with Cassie, only worse: they are all about why they can’t do much to find a person who’s vanished. They take down his name and a description and the few details about his travel I know. The only part they perk up about is his phone. That’s when they start asking about me. Demanding to know who I am and where I am calling from. I hang up when they ask for my number and location. I never even get to telling them that someone also broke into our house.

After that, Jasper and I sit in silence. We have a good view of the building and even some of the exits. We’ve been there going on ten minutes. There’s still no sign of Kelsey.

“You’re sure you didn’t see anybody running after me?” I could have sworn there was. And maybe they grabbed Kelsey—that’s what I’m thinking. “When I came out?”

“I don’t think so,” Jasper says.

That should be good news—except it doesn’t feel like it.

“Kind of weird, isn’t it?” I ask.

“Every part of this is weird, Wylie.”

“But I mean, the fire door said it had an alarm. I didn’t hear it, so it must be one of those silent ones. For sure, they’d know someone had opened it. After all the secrecy, I run out and no one even bothers to come after me?”

“Maybe they were too busy dealing with the actual fire alarm, which was seriously loud, by the way. I could hear it from the road. Maybe they didn’t even hear the door alarm,” he says. “Or maybe they couldn’t chase you once you got outside. It would draw too much attention.”

Even with Jasper’s eyes still locked on the side of the building, I can feel something awful has occurred to him.

“What?” I ask. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, it’s just . . .” He looks down at the steering wheel, traces a right half circle with his finger. “There’s nothing on the news about this. And I mean like nothing at all. I checked online, and there’s not a word anywhere. Wouldn’t somebody have said something to someone?”

It doesn’t make me feel better, but it’s also not a surprise. Uncomfortable silence is a thing I have become accustomed to. “I don’t know. What happened at that camp was a nonevent and thirteen people died. I’m not sure I understand anything anymore.”

“Yeah, except all these girls are going to come out eventually,” Jasper says. “Even if the parents are being quiet now, they probably won’t be once their kids get home and tell them about all this bioterrorist whatever. Everyone’s eventually going to know about this.”