I drove down the long road and past Keenan’s place, which looked abandoned. I kept expecting Maya’s Pathfinder to come in the opposite direction, but when I got to the dirt track, I turned and drove up until the path veered to the left, and the road behind me was no longer visible. I got out and continued on foot, staying hidden in the brush as I made my way to the house. I needn’t have bothered being so secretive. Maya’s car wasn’t there. I couldn’t be certain they’d already left town, but as I listened, the only sounds filling the air were the gentle noises of chirping birds and the leaves waving in the wind.

I crept across the grass, circling around to the front of the house, trying not to wince as the deck creaked beneath my weight. I couldn’t break in until I was sure no one was home, and I rang the doorbell, counting to fifty as I waited. Nobody came. Maya and Ash were gone.

The front door was locked, but when I lifted the flowerpot, expecting to find an empty space, the spare key glinted in the sunshine, another clear sign Maya thought she’d beaten me. My heart sped up again, fear bubbling inside me, but I was here now. I had the time, the opportunity—and I had to act, do something.

I pushed the key into the lock. The front door groaned as I opened it farther, and I listened for movement. Although everything was quiet, I tiptoed across the hallway, checked all the rooms on both floors before finally believing I was on my own. I opened one of the front windows a little, hoping it would be enough to hear the crunching gravel if a car pulled up. Keeping one eye on the driveway, I searched through the living room and the kitchen, quickly rummaging through the cupboards and the old dresser, coming up with nothing, not even the receipt from the drugstore Ash had mentioned, which would’ve been a start.

One thing was certain. Maya wouldn’t be dumb enough to leave anything implicating her just lying around. I headed back up the stairs to her bedroom, terrified she’d jump out as I stepped in. I needn’t have worried. The only things greeting me were the ticking of a clock and the scent of fresh laundry. I went to her bed and ran my fingers underneath the mattress. No, too easy. Whatever she was hiding had to be somewhere more private. I checked out the obvious places anyway, including the toilet cistern and the bathroom cabinet, but the only things I found were tampons, scissors, nail files, cotton swabs and a couple of bottles of headache pills, which appeared legitimate. So much for hiding things in plain sight.