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Chapter Fifty- Seven

Maggie

T hey've found a new permanent nanny for Finn.

Marta is a kind, no-nonsense, middle-aged woman who warmed to Finn within hours. She's shadowed me a couple of times and spent a day and overnight in the East Wing. And Finn seemed to really like her.

A lot of the other contenders had the firmness down, and used that as their strategy to handle him, and others committed whole-heartedly to connecting with him at his level. But Marta seemed to strike a good balance.

She starts the week after next.

And I am heartbroken.

It's weird not waking up to Finn's cheery smile at breakfast in the mornings. Or Candice's celebrity gossip while she makes pancakes or teaches Finn and I how to make the perfect omelet. Or random late afternoon chats with Denise when she checks in before heading home for the evening.

I miss making up dances with Finn in the pool or watching him and his buddies putting on "shows" for me that drag on forever but make me die with laughter, and laid-back evenings in the Games Room working to beat our personal DDR high scores. Making blanket forts and exploring the trails after school, hunting for animal tracks, movie nights and weekend library visits. Evenings in the little alcove off the upstairs sitting room, working on my dioramas with Finn sprawled out on the floor building Lego cities. I miss the Observatory and the view from the window-seat in my bedroom, and watching the blossoms on the trees go from buds to shocking pink flowers to leaves.

I miss Finn.

I miss Xavier.

I still send him occasional texts, and I left him a note when I went to hang out with Finn last week. He still won't let me in, though. Still convinced the best route forward is to walk away. There's no other reality in his mind besides him disappointing people, so he's gone back to playing the part. And breaking my heart in the process.

Thankfully, my days are busy with school, and working on my dioramas. Upping my skills with the spray gun and mastering miniature graffiti, which is tricky and precise, and so satisfying when I get it right. And I've reached the fifteen-thousand follower mark on my YouTube channel.

Then, one Friday night, my phone rings just as I'm about to add shading to a line of graffiti on a crumbling wall of tiny bricks. I glance down at the screen to see who it's from, because I've already decided I'm not going out tonight. I'm well overdue for a night of total vegetation on the couch.

Caller ID: XAVIER ROCKWELL

I answer right away.

"Xave?"

And before I can internalize the excitement over him finally reaching out, he steals the next breath from my lungs.

"Finn is missing, Maggs… I think he ran away."