changed into pajamas and stared out into the woods. The trees moved against the darkness like an unquiet sea.
This way
, I could almost hear Clare whisper.
Catch me if you can
.
I read somewhere once about a little boy who’d disappeared, and it turned out nothing really horrible had happened to him. A lonely woman had taken him because she wanted a child. Long ago, I’d decided that was what had happened to Clare. She’d never died in that fire. Like Pigeon had said, she’d disappeared. Someone had taken her because they’d wanted a daughter, and they’d loved her and raised her, and now she was a normal girl. Part of me believed that she was still out there somewhere in those woods, and that all I had to do was look and I would find her.
I climbed into bed, turned out the light, and pulled the covers over my head to muffle the distant wail of the wind through the pines.
I awoke to crisp blue sky and sunshine. I zipped up my jeans and let my hair hang loose. I slipped on my shoes and started downstairs, trying to convince myself that the faint scent of strawberry on the landing didn’t remind me of Clare. It had been ten years, and I had been young, but the olfactory system was remarkably pitiless.
Breakfast was catered. Catered. Despite my being disgusted by the very idea of it, the food was kind of amazing. The boys were gone, presumably having
creeched
back to campus duringthe night, and we were all to head off too after we’d had our fill of quiche and gravlax and crêpes.
Freddy chatted amiably about politics with Richard—everything about her poise and calculation.
“Where do you stand on immigration?” she asked, sipping her coffee with a mildly concerned brow.
Helen and Noel tittered while they picked abstractly at one croissant. They seemed nice enough, especially Noel, but their lives were so different from mine. Their breakfasts were catered, for Christ’s sake. Noel noticed me staring and, giving me a big grin, waved me over. Helen looked up and smiled too.
“So, Cally,” Noel said, “you went to bed so early last night. You missed everything.”
“What did I miss?”
“Just stuff. So”—she smiled—“do you have a boyfriend back home or anything?”
“Me? God, no.”
“Do you like anyone here?”
“What? No. I mean, I just got here.”
“I saw you hanging out with Jack Deeker.”
“Him? Yeah, he’s really nice.”
“Well, can I give you some advice?” she whispered, leaning in.
“Sure,” I said, still trying to decide whether gravlax was delicious or disgusting.
“Jack’s totally cute, but he’s a train wreck. Helen went out with him for a while freshman year. Now he says he’s asexual, whatever that’s supposed to mean.”
“Yeah,” Helen said. “I wouldn’t go there if I were you. He’s hot and all, but he’s a total loser.”
“Seriously.” Noel nodded. “And sometimes it’s better to go for the nice guy who doesn’t have any baggage, you know? Like Brody or someone. You know, Brody doesn’t have a girlfriend.”
“Noel,” Helen sighed. “Stop playing Yenta.”
“Whatever,” Noel said, then took a swig of her coffee. “Gross. Helen, did you put sugar in my coffee?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh my God, this is so yummy,” Pigeon crooned from her perch on the loggia steps. “It reminds me of the Coeur de Lyon. Have you guys ever been there? My mom’s coming in the spring and we’re all going to have brunch there.”
Freddy rolled her eyes at me and I smiled back. Chelsea slunk in just as breakfast was winding down, and managed to grab a little bit of everything before it was taken away.
“Detective Inspector Wood,” she said, laughing and sliding a fistful of gravlax into her mouth. “How goes it today? Did you catch any criminals in your sleep?”
“Yep. I nabbed Jack the Ripper.”
“Great,” she said, clapping. “I knew you were a talent.” Then she headed toward Freddy, but Freddy stopped her.
“Did you have a good time
This way
, I could almost hear Clare whisper.
Catch me if you can
.
I read somewhere once about a little boy who’d disappeared, and it turned out nothing really horrible had happened to him. A lonely woman had taken him because she wanted a child. Long ago, I’d decided that was what had happened to Clare. She’d never died in that fire. Like Pigeon had said, she’d disappeared. Someone had taken her because they’d wanted a daughter, and they’d loved her and raised her, and now she was a normal girl. Part of me believed that she was still out there somewhere in those woods, and that all I had to do was look and I would find her.
I climbed into bed, turned out the light, and pulled the covers over my head to muffle the distant wail of the wind through the pines.
I awoke to crisp blue sky and sunshine. I zipped up my jeans and let my hair hang loose. I slipped on my shoes and started downstairs, trying to convince myself that the faint scent of strawberry on the landing didn’t remind me of Clare. It had been ten years, and I had been young, but the olfactory system was remarkably pitiless.
Breakfast was catered. Catered. Despite my being disgusted by the very idea of it, the food was kind of amazing. The boys were gone, presumably having
creeched
back to campus duringthe night, and we were all to head off too after we’d had our fill of quiche and gravlax and crêpes.
Freddy chatted amiably about politics with Richard—everything about her poise and calculation.
“Where do you stand on immigration?” she asked, sipping her coffee with a mildly concerned brow.
Helen and Noel tittered while they picked abstractly at one croissant. They seemed nice enough, especially Noel, but their lives were so different from mine. Their breakfasts were catered, for Christ’s sake. Noel noticed me staring and, giving me a big grin, waved me over. Helen looked up and smiled too.
“So, Cally,” Noel said, “you went to bed so early last night. You missed everything.”
“What did I miss?”
“Just stuff. So”—she smiled—“do you have a boyfriend back home or anything?”
“Me? God, no.”
“Do you like anyone here?”
“What? No. I mean, I just got here.”
“I saw you hanging out with Jack Deeker.”
“Him? Yeah, he’s really nice.”
“Well, can I give you some advice?” she whispered, leaning in.
“Sure,” I said, still trying to decide whether gravlax was delicious or disgusting.
“Jack’s totally cute, but he’s a train wreck. Helen went out with him for a while freshman year. Now he says he’s asexual, whatever that’s supposed to mean.”
“Yeah,” Helen said. “I wouldn’t go there if I were you. He’s hot and all, but he’s a total loser.”
“Seriously.” Noel nodded. “And sometimes it’s better to go for the nice guy who doesn’t have any baggage, you know? Like Brody or someone. You know, Brody doesn’t have a girlfriend.”
“Noel,” Helen sighed. “Stop playing Yenta.”
“Whatever,” Noel said, then took a swig of her coffee. “Gross. Helen, did you put sugar in my coffee?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh my God, this is so yummy,” Pigeon crooned from her perch on the loggia steps. “It reminds me of the Coeur de Lyon. Have you guys ever been there? My mom’s coming in the spring and we’re all going to have brunch there.”
Freddy rolled her eyes at me and I smiled back. Chelsea slunk in just as breakfast was winding down, and managed to grab a little bit of everything before it was taken away.
“Detective Inspector Wood,” she said, laughing and sliding a fistful of gravlax into her mouth. “How goes it today? Did you catch any criminals in your sleep?”
“Yep. I nabbed Jack the Ripper.”
“Great,” she said, clapping. “I knew you were a talent.” Then she headed toward Freddy, but Freddy stopped her.
“Did you have a good time
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