Page 24

TWENTY-THREE

Nadia slides into the passenger seat, eager to hear about updates related to Evie’s case. Despite my initial suspicions of her, some of which still remain, I believe she’s connected to Evie’s disappearance for the same reasons I am; we both know what it’s like to be one of the forgotten girls from the wrong side of the tracks.

There aren’t many new developments, but I tell her what Tara told me at the prayer circle about the new boyfriend recently moving into the house. As I speak, I watch as her face mimics the same level of disgust and mistrust I felt when I heard about the news.

“It’s not a good situation,” she says, at last. “Especially if all this happened in the same week Evie went missing.”

“My thoughts exactly.”

“So, what do you want me to do about it?”

“The police say they’re looking into that, but there’s always a part of me that doesn’t trust them. It doesn’t feel like enough. You have more connections with this side of town than I do these days. I thought maybe if you looked into it, you might uncover more than the police can.”

“Do you have a name?”

“No.”

“It’ll be hard to do some digging without that.”

“I thought we’d go see them ourselves.”

Nadia’s face turns still. “Who are we going to see?”

“Evie’s mother.”

“And how do you expect us to get away with that?” Nadia says, crossing her arms over her chest. “We can’t just roll up at the house and accuse her family of being involved.”

“I wouldn’t be that direct about it,” I say. “Given the circumstances, it wouldn’t be that strange for me to visit the family. Evie and I are close.”

“They’re going to be defensive if you show up with a complete stranger,” she says, already reaching for the car door. “If you’re going to do this, you don’t need me involved.”

I’m tempted to put the car into drive before she keeps coming up with excuses to help me, but I reluctantly keep still. “Fine. I’ll handle the conversation by myself, but can you at least watch my back?”

Nadia scoffs, pressing her head against the backrest. She let’s go of the door handle. “You think we’re hosting a stakeout?”

“You can keep lookout for a bunch of computer thieves, but not me? I thought you said you wanted to help.”

“That’s business. And there’s a plan involved,” she says, all humor absent from her tone. “Sounds to me like you’re just winging this as you go.”

My frustration is mounting, as is my helplessness over the fact Nadia might be right. I’m not equipped to find Evie, but sitting back and waiting for others to act has never been my style.

I look into my lap and exhale. “I know what it’s like living with an abuser. You know that. If something serious is going on inside that house, I might be able to pick up on it, and I need someone who can help keep me grounded.”

Nadia looks at me now, a mix of hurt and skepticism in her eyes. “And I’m the person you think can help you keep your cool?”

“You’re the only other person I know that’s dealt with a situation like this personally.” I pause, debating over what I should say next. “You were willing to help me last time.”

“We were kids,” she says, plainly. “Too young to realize we were in over our heads.”

“Evie’s a kid, too,” I say. “And she needs someone to help her.”

Nadia’s face tightens. She turns away, and I think she’s reaching for the door handle, but when she moves again, I see she’s grabbed her seat belt, fastening in for the ride.

* * *

Before long, we’re across town, cruising along the same streets that Nadia and I would frequent in our childhoods. The places where we ditched school and flirted with boys and got picked up for shoplifting. Most of the businesses have changed. Laundromats swapped out for smoke shops and gas stations sporting newer signs. Still that familiar sense of desperation and dread remains. Nadia’s looking out the window, and I wonder if she’s recalling the same memories I am in this moment, but I don’t ask. She remains silent for the majority of the drive until we’re about a block away from the house.

“Poor Evie,” she says under her breath, her eyes still surveying the area around us.

Poor us , I think. This isn’t just Evie’s neighborhood, but ours, too. The only silver lining is that somehow, miraculously, we escaped it.

When we arrive at Evie’s house, I pull in across the street, taking the same spot along the curb I usually take when visiting. I’ve only been here a couple of times before, usually to offer her rides to and from practice when she can’t rely on her mother. Evie’s house is small. Too small for the hordes of people filling the space. Several men are gathered on the front porch smoking cigarettes.

“Not as bad as I was expecting,” Nadia says. She turns to face me. “What’s your plan?”

“I’ll go inside and talk with the mother. See if I can catch a glimpse of the boyfriend.”

“I still don’t understand why I’m here,” she says, her eyes glued to the house, almost as if she’s afraid of it. “I’m not going inside.”

“You can look around to see if there’s anything else suspicious. Once I get more information about the guy, you can check him out.”

Nadia looks out the window again. “This is a bad idea. Don’t you have a fiancé? Or anyone else that can help you?”

It is strange that this situation has brought me closer to Nadia. For years, I’ve been used to being an outsider. Connor and Joanna and all the people I know at Manning Academy—none of them understand my world like Nadia does. None of them understand Evie’s world. I’m equally confused as to why Nadia isn’t more excited to help. She constantly chases thrills; it’s what led her to start stealing in the first place. I would have thought breaking a few rules in the hopes of doing something good for a change might appeal to her.

“You know why you’re the only person I can trust for this.”

She nods slowly, reluctant to admit she knows exactly what I mean.

“Keep it short. If you’re in there more than fifteen minutes, I’ll start to get worried.”

“Just a few minutes is all I need,” I say, opening the car door. I take in a gulp of frigid night air before crossing the street.

My lungs clench as I walk through the cloud of smoke coming off the people smoking on the porch. They stare at me suspiciously, but no one asks me any questions.

There are just as many people inside. Men and women are stuffed into the small living room. In the corner, a few young children are in a huddle playing a game of Uno. They raise their heads to look at me before returning to their game.

As I walk through the house, I search each face. Evie’s mother is nowhere in sight, and I wonder what all these strangers are doing here. Then again, isn’t that what people do after a tragedy? Come together.

After what happened with my father, the only people that showed up were child protective services. I had visits from police officers and lawyers and social workers, but no real friends, other than Nadia.

When Coach Phillips died, it was a completely different story. I was an adult by then. I’d already graduated college. I returned to the house where I spent the last of my teenage years, and the place was busting at the seams. People everywhere. Steaming casseroles in the kitchen. Outside, there were so many flower arrangements, it looked as though the backyard had been changed into botanical gardens.

And yet when I arrived, I instantly felt out of place. His family made sure of it. His ex-wife had always been welcoming the few times I was round her before, but the grief over his death must have overwhelmed her. She demanded I leave the moment I stepped inside her house, insisting the gathering was only for family and close friends. I never even caught a glimpse of his adult daughters or other family members before I was ushered outside. Even though I was feeling a hurt I’d never felt before, no one in the room knew it, or expected it.

I realized in that moment that even though Coach Phillips had been my family, I was never a part of his. Our connection to one another was over. He was gone, and once again, I was alone.

“Can I help you?” A woman with curly hair stands in front of me, interrupting my memories.

“I’m looking for Crystal,” I say, clearing my throat. “I’m from the school.”

The woman looks me up and down, her stare landing on the expensive necklace around my neck. A gift from Connor last Christmas. This one accessory lets her know I don’t belong here. If only she knew I grew up just a few blocks away.

“She’s in the kitchen,” she says, and I follow her through the crowds of people.

Sure enough, Evie’s mother is alone in the kitchen. She’s leaning against the sink, smoking a cigarette. There’s a dazed expression on her face. Looking hard at something but seeing nothing.

“Crystal?”

Her gaze flicks upward. “Coach Cass?”

Now that it’s confirmed Evie’s mother recognizes me, the woman with the crunchy hair exits the kitchen, leaving us alone. I move closer to her, breathing through my mouth so I don’t have to smell the smoke.

“I just left the prayer circle for Evie,” I say. “You weren’t there.”

“Too many people,” she scoffs, ashing her cigarette into the sink. “Not that it’s much better here.”

“Who are all these people?” I say, nodding toward the living room.

“Friends of friends. Everyone has heard what happened by now, and they want to help. Between you and me, it’s just another excuse for them to sit around and drink.”

There’s an open bottle of beer beside her on the counter. Evie’s mother is drinking, too. Not that I blame her. I can’t imagine what she’s going through.

“How are you doing?” I ask her.

“How do you think? My daughter is missing.” She pauses, thinking. “I have no idea where she could be, and I can’t get enough peace around here to even think straight.”

The amount of people in this house makes me worry. If Evie’s mother doesn’t even know half of them, what does that say about Evie’s life here?

“I can ask them to leave, if you’d like?—”

“What are you doing here?” There’s an intentional hardness in her voice that wasn’t there before.

“I wanted to check on you.”

“Well, now you have. Probably just as you expected.” There’s a loud sound coming from the living room. “Hell, maybe Evie did run away. Escape this madness while she can.”

“Is it usually like this?” I ask. “All these people here.”

“Not really. I’m hardly home. Always working or… out.” She pauses. “Used to be I was afraid she spent too much time alone.”

“It’s only the two of you living here, right?” I ask.

“Yep.” She nods her head, but her shoulders raise. She’s lying. Tara already confirmed someone else was living here.

“One of the girls on the team said someone might have moved in,” I say. “Maybe your new boyfriend?”

“Josh?”

I shrug.

“He just got back to town and is trying to get back on his feet, but he doesn’t live here,” she says. “He only stays over sometimes.”

“How do Evie and Josh get along?” I ask.

Evie’s mother’s face changes. She’s studying me closely now. “Why are you asking me this?”

“Some of the girls on the team…” My words trail away, as I try to find the best way to say it. “They said he makes her feel uncomfortable.”

A sad smile creeps across her face as she tosses her cigarette in the sink. “I see what you’re getting at. Nothing like that is going on.”

“I wasn’t suggesting… Maybe there was something going on you didn’t know about.”

“I would know what’s going on under my own roof.”

And yet that’s not true. Her mother just admitted she’s not here a lot. Evie is on her own. If this Josh guy is crashing here, there’s no telling what goes on when she’s not around. I sense these same thoughts are going through Evie’s mother’s head, and that’s why she’s getting so defensive.

“Besides, girls lie all the time. Her teammates don’t know anything about Evie. They don’t give her the time of day.”

“What do you mean?”

“We both know Evie isn’t like anyone else at her school. I tried to warn her about that before she accepted the scholarship, but she didn’t listen.”

I shake my head, confused. “The scholarship is a good thing. With her talent, she’ll get noticed by better teams. College recruits.”

“But she has to walk through those halls every day knowing she’s the poor girl,” her mother says. “Trust me, those girls don’t let her forget it.”

I’m about to ask her what she means when there’s another commotion from the living room. The voices get louder. Someone starts to yell.

Evie’s mother walks past me, entering the living room. “What’s going on here?”

“It’s outside,” one of the women says. “Someone is getting into it.”

Evie’s mother storms to the front porch and I follow her. The crowd outside has now dispersed. People are staggered around the front yard watching as a man gets into an arguing match with… Nadia.

“What’s going on?” I say, rushing to the car. She’s standing by the passenger side, standing her ground as the man shouts at her.

“This bitch is sitting in the car watching us,” the man says, looking at me. “And who are you?”

“Calm down,” the mother says. “She knows Evie from school.”

“I told you,” Nadia shouts back. “I’m waiting on my friend.”

“Josh, calm down,” Evie’s mother says, trying to pull him back toward the house.

Josh. So this is the boyfriend that’s been staying at the house. The man that made Evie feel so uncomfortable.

“This bitch isn’t from the school,” he says, pointing at Nadia. “I already told you not to come back here.”

Back here? From what I knew, this was the first time Nadia had been back to this part of town in years. What reason could she possibly have for coming to Evie’s house? I look at Nadia, but she quickly looks away. She takes a step closer to Josh. “You don’t know sh?—”

Crystal steps forward, waving her arms in front of her. “We didn’t want you in our lives before, Nadia,” she says. “We definitely don’t need you around now.”

She called her by her name. Crystal knows Nadia, but how? And why is she adamant that she stay away?

“I’m only trying to help,” Nadia says, her voice low. “Cass is my friend, and she asked me to be here.”

“This bitch doesn’t call the shots,” Josh says. “Next time we see you outside our house, there’s going to be trouble.”

I step in between Josh and Nadia, waving my hands. “Let’s just calm down, okay? Nadia is my friend. She’s here because I asked her to be. There’s no reason to get worked up.”

“Evie is missing and we don’t know who took her,” he says. “I’m suspicious of everyone. And this girl is bad news.”

“Coach Cass, I think it’s time you leave,” Evie’s mother says. She looks at Nadia. “Your friend, too.”

I grab Nadia’s elbow and wrestle her back toward the car. “Let’s go.”

The only thing that outweighs my confusion in this moment is my anger. Why wouldn’t Nadia tell me she had a connection to Evie’s family? It can’t be a coincidence if she’s been to the house before. She must have known exactly who Evie was since the moment she went missing, and she never said anything.