Page 135

“That tracks.”

I laugh softly despite myself.

Then he says what I already know he’s going to say. “Take the leave, Laurel. Properly. I know we always rely on you, but we can figure everything out here for a while.”

I close my eyes briefly. “I don’t like leaving projects unfinished.”

“You realize your sister being missing qualifies as an emergency, right?”

“When you say it out loud like that, I sound unreasonable.”

“It is unreasonable to think work can come before your sister.”

I lean back in the chair.

For years, work has been the thing I controlled best. But right now, my family feels more important than deadlines. The realization terrifies me a little.

“I’ll take the time,” I say.

Julian exhales audibly. “Good. Take the time, but remember, you’re still needed.”

I laugh. “I need work too.”

After the call, I abandon the spreadsheets and instead spend nearly three hours turning the house upside down.

Closets. Drawers. Ben’s old room. Maggie’s storage boxes.

I search for anything that might make the cryptic contents of Maggie’s note clearer.

Rain city.

Don’t follow the first trail.

He cries better than he tells the truth.

Lucy knows the song, but not the words.

Ben always hated it here.

If I’m gone, I chose the water before the fire chose me.

I’ve read it so many times now the words have stopped looking real.

At one point, I end up sitting cross legged on the hallway floor surrounded by old photo albums and paperwork while trying to work out whether “water before fire” could possibly be code for Seattle.

Or Vancouver. Or escape. Or fear. Or all of it.

My head hurts by the time another knock sounds downstairs.

I glance at the clock.

School pickup time already.

I open the front door to find Briggs standing there like a monolith, in a black hoodie dampened lightly by drizzle, massive hands shoved into his pockets.

His eyes move over me. “You been crying?”

“No.”