Sonder Hill is small, thank goodness. If this had happened in Boston, my panic level would’ve been much higher. At least here, it’s easier to look for her everywhere before calling the cops.

With Aaron’s guidance, we drive to the only grocery store in town, to the few playgrounds, to the ice cream shop, and to the indoor swimming pool. Nothing.

Aaron’s knee is jumping beside me, his eyes fixated outside. The sky is gray, sunrays barely passing through, which adds an ominous feel to the day.

“Do you have any other ideas?” I ask softly while making a U-turn so we can examine the route a second time.

“I don’t know.” He drags a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly. “Wren, I can’t—”

“Does she like to read?” I interrupt while I narrow in on one of the buildings I missed while driving in the opposite direction. When I was young, my mother had to work two jobs to make ends meet. As a single mom who didn’t have the opportunity to get higher education, she didn’t have the choice. My grandpa’s dementia had already started to progress by the time I was ten, so Mom couldn’t rely on him, considering all his money had to go for the care he needed. Having support at home, or in a care facility, is extremely expensive, but also indispensable for someone with advanced Alzheimer’s—one of the reasons I picked a high-paying job and am careful with my savings. So with a mother who worked so much and no one else to hang out with, reading became my main entertainment.

“She does. Why?”

Sonder Hill’s library is located inside a small brick building, easy to miss. The insignia on the front door is the only thing that tipped me off. Instead of answering Aaron’s question, I turn into the parking lot of the library and stop the car.

“Let’s go in,” I tell him while unbuckling my seat belt. He follows.

“This is a long walk from the school,” he says as we head toward the front door.

“She seems like a persistent kid.”

This has to be it. Otherwise, we’re lost. I’m coming up short of ideas, and if she’s not here, then I’m not sure what we’ll do. Call the police? Aaron will start panicking, for real this time. Maybe I’ll be right there with him.

We walk inside the small space that brings us straight back to the seventies, with vertical wood panels on the walls and popcorn ceilings. I head to the single clerk manning the front desk.

“Good afternoon,” she says.

“Hi. Have you seen a little girl this big? Black hair, brown eyes?”

“Actually, yes, I did. I think I saw her heading toward the back,” she says.