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SEVENTEEN

Nadia’s several steps ahead of me. I keep my distance, assessing her every move. She walks slowly, with confidence, unlike someone who just committed a major crime. It’s her calm demeanor that’s always helped her get away with things.

When we were younger, I was the one with raised anxiety. Looking over my shoulder, afraid someone might have seen what we’d done. Nadia was always cool and collected, just as she is now.

Her fingers tap away on the cell phone in her hands. Clearly, she’s in contact with someone, even though the number she gave me no longer works. Her thumb glides across the screen. I wonder what she’s looking at, who she’s communicating with.

As we approach the opening of the apartment building, she pauses, putting the phone into her pocket. She dials a code into the security box, and a minute later the door beeps. She reaches for the handle.

“Are you following me upstairs?” she asks.

She’s staring straight ahead, but she must be talking to me. There’s no one else on the street. I’d tried to be quiet and put enough distance between us, but she still knows I’m here.

“I think that would be a good idea,” I say.

The conversation we’re about to have shouldn’t take place in public. A small niggle of apprehension courses through me. I suspect Nadia of a horrendous crime; most people wouldn’t be comfortable being alone with her, but I understand Nadia. Even if she’s connected to what happened to Evie, she’s not going to hurt me.

“How’d you find out where I live?”

She turns to face me now, holding the glass door open so that I can walk through it.

“I went back to the liquor store,” I say. “The cashier said he’d seen you walking in this neighborhood.”

“So much for living off the grid,” she says.

“You always did leave an impression.”

Nadia’s apartment is at the end of a narrow corridor. She enters the unit first, and another wave of apprehension falls over me, but I swallow it down and follow her inside. From the moment she re-entered my life, there’s been nothing but chaos, and I’ll have to confront that if I want to find out what happened.

Inside, her apartment looks brand new. There’s swanky furniture in the living room, all new appliances in the kitchen, and yet no personal details. No framed pictures or portraits. This is the kind of upscale apartment that reminds me of where some of Connor’s friends live, a far cry from my fixer-upper on the other side of town. A small part of me feels a sense of victory knowing Nadia is able to afford such a nice apartment, far nicer than anything we could have envisioned when we were younger.

Then I remember how she’s able to afford a place like this, through conning and stealing. There’s a small desk by the window. Sitting on it, next to a potted plant, is the newspaper article from earlier in the week. The picture—the one of me and the girls, including Evie—is circled with a black marker. Something inside me hardens.

“What the hell happened last night?” I ask her, jaw clenched.

“As I’m sure you saw, we ran into some problems,” she says. “We called the whole thing off.”

“Who is we?”

“You don’t need to know that,” she says. “We’ll pick another date and time. I’ll reach out to you again when I know something.”

“Are you crazy?” I scoff. “I don’t plan on helping you again.”

“The same terms remain. Either you help me, or I tell all your players’ parents about your past crimes.”

“None of that matters,” I shout, my voice echoing in the near-empty space. “I agreed to help you steal equipment from a computer lab, not abduct a child.”

Nadia makes a strange face. “What?”

“Don’t play dumb with me,” I say. “I know you weren’t there to steal keyboards and computer screens.”

“Cass, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“It’s all over the news.”

Nadia makes another strange face then walks into the living room. She turns on the giant flat-screen hanging on the wall and flips to a local news station. Sure enough, everyone is still talking about what happened overnight. The bottom of the screen reads: Manning Academy Student Reported Missing at School Event.

“What the hell is this?” Nadia asks.

“You tell me,” I say. “It can’t be a coincidence that the same night you planned on hitting the school a child goes missing.”

“A child?”

“One of my players disappeared overnight from the lock-in. Her name is Evie.”

Nadia stumbles backward, reaching for the sofa for balance. Anyone would be shocked to hear about a child in danger, but I’m bothered by how startled Nadia appears, as though she’s been wounded by a personal insult. She looks nervous, a reaction I’m not used to seeing from her. “You think I had something to do with it?”

“I think this is a really nice apartment,” I say, surveying the room. “And you probably have to do a lot more than steal from local schools to pay for it.”

“Cass, I had nothing to do with this! I would never?—”

“I don’t know you anymore. I don’t know what you’re into, but I promise if you’re connected to what happened to Evie, I will come after you. I don’t care if I go down with you.”

“There was never a plan to kidnap anyone.”

“Then what happened last night?”

“We showed up at the school as planned, but there was too much activity. Different cars. People walking in and out,” she says. “We decided to call things off.”

“We?”

“This guy I’ve been seeing.” She crosses her arms. “We got into a fight about it, if you must know. Not sure I’m going to be messing around with him much longer.”

“What time were you at the school?”

“A little after four in the morning.”

“You said you were coming close to midnight.”

“I said we’d be there after midnight,” she says. “Do you think the cars we saw there might have something to do with the disappearance?”

As hopeful as I am, it’s unlikely. If Nadia and her partner arrived at the school around four, they likely saw Mr. Lake and Coach Reynolds arriving. By that time, we were already taking turns scouring the building.

“You could always go to the police and tell them what you saw,” I tell her.

“I don’t trust the police.”

“But you trust your thief boyfriend?”

“I trust myself. I would never get involved with anyone capable of hurting a child,” she says. “You should know that much about me.”

She’s right. The Nadia I know would do anything to protect a vulnerable child. She did everything she could to protect me. But I also never imagined she would blackmail me.

“What do you think happened?” she asks.

“I don’t know. When I saw that the computer lab hadn’t been touched, I thought maybe you were after Evie all along. Or maybe she saw you doing something, and you took her.”

Nadia raises her arms. “Feel free to look around. I’m not hiding any young girls.”

“Why did you disconnect your phone?”

“Because the number I gave you is a burner,” she says. “If the job is called off, there’s no reason to still use it.”

Before I can ask another question, my phone begins to ring. When I see the number that’s calling my stomach drops.

“What is it?” Nadia asks.

“It’s Evie’s mother,” I say, exiting her apartment as I answer the phone.