It was the girl who’d been in the driveway the other night, the one we’d called the police on. The one who’d vanished right in front of us.

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 13

I waited to see if Mom or Mo was going to say anything. Mo had seen someone but was fuzzy on the details. Mom hadn’t seen her at all. Neither of them seemed to recognize her.

In the moment our eyes met, I took in everything about her, like my mind was purposely making sure I couldn’t forget any of the details. She was the most striking person I’d ever seen. Her skin was the deep umber color of autumn leaves, and her silver-gray hair was slicked back, gathered behind her neck in a mass of tight coils. The corner of her mouth drew up as she watched me.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” she said, her gaze fixed on me. She stuck her hands in the pockets of her camo-colored coat. “I know it’s late. I’m Marie, Alec’s granddaughter.”

“Who’s Alec?” Mom asked.

My mind raced to think of a lie that wouldn’t get me in too much trouble. I couldn’t tell Mom or Mo that I’d visited Alec in the hospital. “A guy I met in town,” I said quickly. “Do you want to come in?”

Marie tilted her head and smiled. “Very much. Thank you.”

She stepped into the entryway, and Mom and Mo stood there, waiting for me to explain.

“Follow me,” I said, avoiding their stares. “I’ll get the comfrey for you.”

My parents hung back, but I could feel them watching as Marie followed me down the hall. We turned into the apothecary.

“How’s Alec?” I asked. “They release him yet?”

Marie rolled her eyes. “No. He’s fine, though. Annoying, but fine. He got himself into a mess, and if he suffers while he’s healing . . .” She shrugged like she was saying “oh well.” She put her hand on her hip and looked me over from head to toe so slowly I had to glance away out of embarrassment.

A stirring sense of confusion and, if I was being real, intrigue settled over me. She couldn’t have been older than me, maybe seventeen at the most. I couldn’t tell if her hair was dyed silver or if that was her natural color. She wore a fitted pair of jeans, ripped in a few places at her thigh where her skin showed through, and a white T-shirt under her camo coat. Her chunky black boots clunked across the floor as she circled the shop. There was something about the way she moved, like she was in slow motion, each movement deliberate.