The Van Houten girls had spent the last hour on the porch swing telling their favorite stories about their mom. From the picture they painted, it was no wonder Amy and Nora had sparked a friendship. To borrow her mom’s expression, they both “marched to the beat of their own xylophone.”

“Thank you,” Rowan said, taking a seat next to Finn on the stoop.

Finn waved her off. “It’s no big deal.”

“Seriously. If it weren’t for you, we never would have found her. I’d still be digging holes all over the forest.”

“I’m just happy my echoes could be useful for once.”

“I can’t wait to talk to her again.” Rowan smiled briefly before her eyes drifted downward. “That is, if my dad lets me.”

At that moment, Finn spotted Myron sneaking out of the woods. “I bet he will,” she said.

“Headed out?” Myron strolled up to the station wagon just as Zadie slammed the back door closed.

“Yeah,” her sister answered. “We should get on the road if we want to get to the coast by dark.”

“The coast?” Joel said, confused. “I thought you were heading home?”

“Not yet. We still need to find Mom.”

“But Finn—”

“I’m fine.” Finn stood and approached the others with as normal a gait as she could muster without wincing. “We’re so close. We have to finish this.”

Joel shook his head slightly. He clearly had reservations about the plan, but he held his tongue.

“Well, it’s been a pleasure having you here,” Myron continued. He seemed lighter somehow, a shade or two shy of happy. “Now who am I supposed to fish with?”

Zadie shrugged. “You could try convincing the girls again.”

“Nope!” all three of them said in unison.

“Well, there you have it!” Myron laughed easily. “When you find your mom, tell her I say hi.”

They finished saying their goodbyes, and Zadie and Joel climbed into the car. Before Finn could join them, Rowan pulled Finn into a tight hug and whispered, “I hope you find her.”

“Me too,” she answered.

The six-hour drive to the Washington coast was too quiet for Zadie. Finn sat in back, her injured feet propped up on the seat next to her, drifting in and out of sleep. The previous day had been hard on her, so Zadie was content to let her rest. Joel rode shotgun but spent most of the drive gazing out his window at the islands dotting Puget Sound and the jagged forests of the Olympic Peninsula. “Whoever sees Bigfoot first, wins,” Zadie tried joking after an achingly long silence between them. “You’re on,” he said halfheartedly, then never mentioned it again.